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THEOLOGICAL    .iEMINARY, 
Princeton,  N.  J. *~    ^ 

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OPINIONS  OF  THE  PRESS, 


THE    PUBLISHERS    SELECT    THE     FOLLOWING   EXTRACTS    FROM 
NOTICES  OF  THE  FIRST  EDITION  OF 

JUtscdlcimes,  bn  0.  (Soiling,  ill.  JD. 


"This  volume  was  written  by  Dr.  Collins,  of  Baltimore;  a  gentle- 
man well  known  for  his  high  character  and  literary  taste.  His  style 
is  clear,  pure,  and  often  beautiful;  his  perceptions  are  quick  and 
usually  true;*  and  the  grasp  of  his  intellect  extensive.  In  mind, 
character,  taste,  and  genius,  we  set  him  down  as  a  disciple  of  Charles 
Lamb;  and  although  he  does  not  equal  his  great  prototype — few 
ever  will — yet  to  say  he  approaches  nearer  to  that  pure  and  exalted 
original  than  any  other  living  writer,  is  praise  enough." — Boston 
Traveller. 


"Dr.  Collins  is  a  writer  of  much  force,  taste,  and  eloquence;  and 
the  volume  does  honour  as  well  to  his  head  and  heart,  as  to  American 
literature.  The  tone  is  lofty,  the  taste  is  pure,  and  the  style  is 
meritorious  in  no  ordinary  degree." — Philadelphia  Inquirer. 

"This  volume  is  written  in  a  subdued,  chaste,  correct  style,  and 
will  soon  find  a  place  in  every  library." — N.  Orleans  Morning  Herald. 


"We  have  seldom  been  so  agreeably  disappointed  as  in  the  peru- 
sal of  these  'Miscellanies.'  The  modest  covering,  the  simple  and 
unostentatious  preface,  give  no  indication  of  the  rich  mental  feast 
which  is  spread  out  in  its  pages — save  on  the  principle  that  true 
genius  is  ever  modest  and  retiring.  The  style  is  easy,  comprehen- 
sive, instructive;  and  the  matter  is  rendered  doubly  interesting,  by 
the  classic  gems  which  the  author  has  culled  from  the  rich  mines  of 
literature  and  history,  and  set  in  the  puie  gold  of  his  own  workman- 
ship. We  heartily  congratulate  the  author  on  the  intrinsic  merit  of 
his  Miscellanies,  and  assure  him  if  they  meet  their  deserts,  the  pub- 
lishers will  have  no  cause  to  regret  having  undertaken  their  publi- 
cation."— Philadelphia  Saturday  Courier. 


OPINIONS    OF    THE    PRESS. 


"The  Essays,  Reviews,  and  Speeches,  in  this  volume,  are  ele- 
gantly and  chastely  written,  and  bear  witness  that  the  author's  rnind 
is  highly  cultivated,  warmed  by  religious  feeling,  and  guided  by  a 
pure  taste.  The  leading  essay,  on  the  career  and  genius  of  Charies 
Dickens,  is  one  of  the  best  we  have  read  on  the  "subject.  Others 
will  command  attention  by  their  kindly  spirit,  critical  justice,  and 
elaborate  scholarly  finish." — Philadelphia  Saturday  Evening  Post. 


"This  volume  is  composed  of  Essays  on  literary  subjects,  critical 
and  biographical  articles,  select  speeches,  &c,  by  Dr.  Collins,  of 
Baltimore.  We  have  read  some  of  the  papers  with  great  pleasure. 
The  author  proves  himself  well  versed  in  English  letters,  a  discreet 
critic,  and  an  earnest  friend  of  high-toned  morality.  Among  these 
Miscellanies  we  may  mention  particularly  pleasant  sketches  of  Dick- 
ens, Lamb,  and  other  familiar  names  in  literature  and  science." — Phi- 
ladelphia North  American. 


"These  Miscellanies  are  the  production  of  a  cultivated  and  reli- 
gious mind.  They  are  pleasingly,  and  often  beautifully  written. 
The  biographical  sketches  are  particularly  racy." — Presbyterian. 


"Full  of  well  written  Essays  on  celebrated  characters." — New  York 
Herald. 


"We  have  read  several  of  these  Essays  with  great  pleasure,  and 
perceive  in  them  a  chaste  style,  good  taste,  and  considerable  vigour  of 
thought." — New  York  Commercial  Advertiser. 


"The  author  of  this  volume  is  a  physician  of  Baltimore — evidently 
a  man  of  instructed  mind,  sound  feelings,  and  good  judgment."— New 
York  American. 


"This  is  a  volume  of  which  the  author  ha3  reason  to  be  proud. 
The  style  is  terse  and  vigorous,  and  the  subjects  on  which  he  has 
written  such  as  are  interesting  to  every  reader.  We  were  particu- 
larly pleased  with  the  dissertation  on  the  character  and  writings  of 
Charles  Lamb." — N.  Y.  Ladies'  Companion. 


"Under  the  modest  name  of  "Miscellanies"  the  author  presents  a 
series  of  Reviews  and  other  literary  Essays  which  certainly  do  cre- 
dit to  his  general  taste  and  information.  In  all  these,  a  cultivated 
mind  and  a  correct  judgment  display  themselves,  with  warm  im- 
pulses towards  elegant  pursuits.  The  book  is,  such  as  the  general 
opinion  of  the  press  has  avouched,  one  of  more  than  ordinary  merit. 
There  is  nothing  dull,  nothing  affected,  nothing  immoral  in  it;  and 
this,  for  a  book  of  the  present  day,  is  saying  a  good  deal." — National 
Intelligencer. 


OPINIONS    OF    THE    PRESS.  Ill 

"This  modest  volume  is  not  a  religious  work;  but  bears  on  every 
part  of  it  the  characters  of  a  religious  mind.  In  addition  to  the  re- 
finement of  literary  habits  which  every  where  reveals  itself  in  these 
Essays,  there  is  a  christian  benignity  which  is  very  winning,  and 
which,  we  doubt  not  a  moment,  belongs  to  the  author." — Princeton 
Review. 


"There  is  much  sense,  taste,  and  more  than  an  usual  range  of  in- 
formation in  these  Essays.  Though  a  physician,  the  author's  style 
is  scarcely  tinged  with  certain  defects,  almost  always  to  be  remarked 
in  the  literary  efforts  of  that  learned  profession.  The  fact  is  general, 
although  Sir  Thomas  Browne,  Akenside,  Smollet,  and  Goldsmith  af- 
ford very  brilliant  exceptions  to  it." — Richmond  Whig. 


"Dr.  Collins  has  been  favourably  known  for  a  considerable  time,  by 
his  able  efforts  in  the  Maryland  Legislature,  and  more  recently  by 
many  interesting  and  forcible  articles  in  various  periodicals.  He  is 
a  ready,  chaste,  and  natural  writer — an  acute  and  discerning  critic 
— a  strong  and  powerful  reasoner.  The  volume  now  before  us  is 
made  up  of  twenty-eight  distinct  articles,  on  as  many  different  sub- 
jects; and  notwithstanding  some  of  these  are  apparently  trite,  and, 
therefore,  at  first  view,  would  be  pronounced  uninteresting,  yet  he 
contrives  to  throw  into  the  discussion  so  much  life  and  animation, 
intermingled  with  such  just  and  often  novel  views,  such  striking 
sentiments,  and  in  a  style  so  natural  and  entertaining  that  the  reader 
will  find  it  difficult  to  leave  an  article  till  he  has  read  it  all." — Madi- 


"The  volume  before  us  is  a  collection  of  essays,  criticisms,  biogra- 
phies, &c.  These  appear  to  be  the  recreations  of  a  gentleman  of 
taste,  in  hours  of  leisure,  rather  than  the  studied  and  elaborate  pro- 
ductions of  the  professed  literateur.  We  do  not  wish  it  to  be  im- 
plied, however,  that  the  amateur  author  has  been  deficient  in  proper 
attention  to  his  subjects,  so  as  to  present  us  with  crudities  of  thought 
and  inaccuracies  of  style,  (for  the  articles  give  evidence  of  reading 
and  reflection,  and  of  refined  taste,)  but  that  he  comes  before  us  in 
an  easy  and  unpretending  manner,  without  the  "pomp  and  circum- 
stance" of  premeditated  book-making.  His  sketches  are  the  quiet 
unburthening  of  the  mind,  rather  than  the  efforts  of  ambitious  dis- 
play; and  the  reader  participates  in  the  calm  and  pleasurable  feelings 
in  which  they  appear  to  have  been  composed." — Southern  Quarterly 
Review. 


"This  collection  of  "Miscellanies"  is  one  of  the  most  acceptable 
volumes  which  it  has  been  our  good  fortune  to  read,  in  many  a  day, 
from  the  pen  of  any  author,  American  or  English.  We  can  pay  Dr. 
Collins  no  higher  compliment  than  to  say  that  this  book  is  a  copy  of 


IV  OPINIONS    OF    THE    PRESS. 

himself.  The  style,  every  word  drawn  from  "the  wells  of  English 
undefiled;"  the  subjects,  combining  manly  thought  with  sensibility 
as  pure  as  ever  flowed  from  the  heart,  or  adorned  the  page  of  genius; 
the  entire  familiarity  with  the  great  thinkers  and  writers  in  the 
English  tongue  which  drops  out  by  accident,  in  almost  every  page; 
and  withal  the  modesty  which  sheds  its  gentle  grace  over  the  whole, 
cheat  us  into  the  illusion^half  the  time  we  are  reading,  that  we  are 
conversing  with  the  author." — Maryland  Temperance  Herald. 


"Dr.  Collins  is  not  unknown  to  the  public,  as  a  writer  of  great 
force  and  vigour,  and  much  elegance:  and  this  work  from  his  pen 
will  not  only  extend  the  knowledge  of  his  abilities,  but  increase  his 
fame." — Baltimore  patriot. 

fj  

"The  style  of/the  author  is  free,  fluent,  and  copious,  and  it 
abounds  in  allusions  which  exhibit  a  great  variety  of  reading.  In 
all  the  Essays  there  is  a  tone  of  morality  giving  a  characteristic 
mark  of  the  current  of  thought  and  observation.  The  criticisms  on 
various  authors,  who,  as  literary  men,  are  made  the  subjects  of  seve- 
ral of  the  pieces,  are  written  in  a  kindly  spirit,  yet  with  due  regard 
to  the  claims  of  critical  justice." — Baltimore  American. 


"We  confess  that  on  opening  the  pages  of  this  volume  we  were 
impressed  with  previously  conceived  sentiments  of  kindness  and 
respect  toward  its  author,  and  the  consequent  hope  had  been  excited 
that  this,  his  first  effusion  from  the  press,  might  prove  worthy  of  him. 
The  hope  has  been  realized.  He  has  produced  within  the  compass 
of  a  small  volume  a  pleasing  miscellany  of  articles  that  are  charac- 
terized alike  by  graceful  diction,  deviated  sentiment,  and  sound  in- 
struction. The  style,  the  pure  and  elevated  vein  of  thought  per- 
vading, the  deep  and  calm  research  and  reflection  manifested,  all 
tend  to  impart  satisfaction  on  perusing  the  work  before  us." — Balti- 
more Clipper. 


"This  is  a  volume  of  Essays,  from  the  pen  of  Dr.  Collins,  well 
known  and  highly  respected  in  this  city  as  a  gentleman,  a  physician 
and  a  scholar.  That  he  had  devoted  himself  to  the  occupations  of 
the  closet,  and  consumed  the  "midnight  oil,"  was  not  entirely  un- 
known, though  he  had  not  yet  ventured  before  the  public  "in  book 
form;"  hence  expectations  were  to  some  extent  indulged,  that  he 
would  at  some  time  favour  the  public  with  the  result  of  his  devotion 
to  literary  pursuits.  In  this  case  expectation  has  not  been  dis- 
appointed, either  as  touching  the  fact  of  authorship,  or  the  character 
of  the  work,  which  is  such  as  might  justifiably  be  expected  as  re- 
sulting from  that  of  the  author,  which  needs  not  the  feeble  aid  of  our 
commendation." — Baltimore  Sun. 


MISCELLANIES 


0tcpl)cn  tfollhw,  ill.  H. 


I  HAUE  PLATED  M7  SELFE  THE  INQUISITOR,  AND  FIND  NOTHING  TO  MY  VNDER- 
STANDING  IN  THESE  ESSAYES  CONTRARY,  OR  INFECTIOUS  TO  THE  STATE  OV 
RELIGION  OR  MANNERS;  BUT  RATHER  (AS    I  SUPPOSE)  MEDICINABLE. 

Lord  Bacon. 


SECOND    EDITION 


%  t)  1 1  a  Tr  e  I  p  i)  t  a : 

CAREY   AND    HART. 

1845. 


25nteretr,  according  to  the  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1842,  by 

Steven  Collins, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  Maryland. 


JAMES    TOT7NO,    PRINTEE. 


iUilltam  £j.   Collins, 

WITH   WHOM   HE    HAS    PASSED 

SO  MANY    YEARS 

OF  UNDIMINISHED  FRATERNAL  AFFECTION, 

AND  BY  WHOM  HIS  JOYS  AND  SORROWS 

HAVE  ALWAYS  BEEN  SHARED, 

THIS  VOLUME  OF 

Mis  cell  ant  zs 

IS   DEDICATED    BY 

E\)Z  Stutfjor. 


|)  r  t  f  a  1 t . 


It  has  been  the  desire  of  the  author,  in  writing  this 
volume,  that  every  line  may  contribute  to  advance  the 
cause  of  virtue,  literature,  or  humanity.  He  can  say, 
in  the  words  of  Bacon,  that,  to  his  understanding,  he 
finds  nothing  in  it  contrary,  or  infectious  to  the  state 
of  religion,  or  manners;  but  rather,  as  he  supposes, 
medicinable.  If  such  be  its  character,  he  believes  it 
will  be  read  with  that  lenity  of  criticism  with  which 
the  public  is  disposed  to  receive  the  first  production  of 
an  author. 

Baltimore,  October  1st,  1842. 


Contents 


Charles  Dickens, 

Charles  Lamb, 

Henry  Martyn— J.  S.  Nev 

American  Literature, 

Lord  Bacon,  ... 

Woman  as  a  Missionary. 

Cheveley, 

The  Dying  Hour,    ... 

Philip  Syng  Physick, 

The  Deaf  Elder,  ... 

John  Summerfield, 

William  Cowper,    ... 

King  James'  Bible, 

England  in  1S41,     ... 

David  Brainerd, 

May  the  Fourteenth,  1841 

July  the  Fourth,  1842, 

The  Sea  Shore, 

James  Barbour, 

Insanity, 

Speech  on  Insanity, 

Remarks,  &c. 

Remarks,  &c. 

Speech,  &c. 

Speech,  &c.     . .. 

Speech,  &c. 

John  Wilkes, 

William  Lenhart, 


35 

...   59 

h9 

...   77 

85 

...   91 

97 

... 

...  105 

.  ...  113 

... 

...  121 

.  ...  131 

...  137 

...                    . 

...  155 
...  173 

.   ...  185 

...  193 

.  ...   199 

.  .  . 

. . .  209 

.   ...  231 

...  247 

.  ...  257 

...  261 

.  ...  265 

...  275 

.  ...  285 

...  297 

.  ...  303 

(£  v  x  a  t  a . 

On  page  11,  line  7  from  bottom,  /or  "exception''  read  exceptions, 
«      "     72,    •'     2  from   top,  /or  "Cannae"  read  Capua. 
"      "     129,  "     3  from  bottom,  for  "orbit"  read  orbits. 
«      «     294,  "  14  from  top,  for  "Pharoah"  read  Pharaoh. 


COLLINS'    MISCELLANIES. 


CHARLES  DICKENS. 

The  recent  visit  of  Mr.  Dickens  to  this  country  has 
attached  additional  interest  to  his  character  as  an  author, 
and  a  man.  The  annunciation  that  we  might  expect 
to  see  the  writer  who  had  contributed  so  much  to  our 
instruction  and  amusement;  who  derived  his  beautiful 
creations  from  those  conditions  of  society  which  are 
degenerate,  degraded,  and  forlorn;  who  held  up  to  the 
contempt  of  the  world  meanness,  falsehood,  cruelty, 
and  oppression,  wherever  found  to  exist;  who  spread 
before  us,  on  his  pages,  the  lesson  taught  in  the  great 
Book  of  Nature,  that  "Nothing  is  high,  because  it  is 
in  a  high  place;  and  nothing  is  low,  because  it  is  in  a 
low  one,"  was  received  with  universal  delight.  Every 
age  and  condition  looked  with  anxiety  for  the  approach 
of  the  promised  guest;  and,  on  his  arrival,  gave  him  a 
reception  which  would  have  been  an  appropriate  wel- 
come to  a  friend  and  benefactor,  long  known  and 
highly  loved — a  reception  in  accordance  with  the  re- 
publican sentiments  of  the  people  of  this  country, 
which  induced  them  to  offer  to  genius  the  homage 
2 


10  CHARLES   DICKENS. 

which  was  denied  to  rank.  We  need  not  go  far  to  find 
the  reason  for  this  enthusiasm.  It  is  the  influence 
which  mind  exercises  over  mind.  One  hundred  thou- 
sand Romans  arose  when  Virgil  entered  the  theatre, 
and  thus  paid  to  the  genius  of  the  Mantuan  bard  the 
same  homage  which  they  offered  to  Csesar  himself. 
Petrarch  received  the  laurel  crown  of  Poetry  in  the 
presence  of  all  the  nobles  and  high-bom  ladies  of  Rome. 
Two  hundred  and  fifty  years  later,  the  same  honour 
was  decreed  to  Tasso:  but  death  interposed  between 
the  author  of  Gerusalemme  Liberata,  and  the  distinc- 
tion which  was  to  "receive  from  him  as  much  honour 
as,  in  past  times,  it  had  conferred  on  others."  It  is  a 
beautiful  sentiment  of  Schiller,  that,  Genius,  kindling 
with  right  affections,  can  hold  the  millions  in  its  em- 
brace, and  throw  a  kiss  to  the  whole  world. 

Although  Mr.  Dickens  has  obtained  more  reputation 
than  any  other  author  of  the  day,  his  history  is  not 
abundant  with  incidents.  His  parentage  is  respectable, 
his  father  having  been,  for  many  years,  reporter  to  the 
London  Morning  Chronicle.  At  an  early  age  he  was 
placed  in  the  office  of  an  eminent  barrister;  and  after- 
wards accepted  an  appointment  as  reporter  for  the  same 
paper  which  employed  his  father.  It  cannot  be 
doubted  that  this  occupation,  in  a  city  like  London, 
was  the  means  of  developing  his  remarkable  powers 
for  the  observation  and  description  of  life.  The  exist- 
ence of  genius  is  often  unknown  to  its  possessor  until 
developed  by  peculiar  circumstances;  as  the  waters  of 
Meribah  were  concealed  in  the  rock  before  they  were 
made  to  flow  by  the  rod  of  Moses.     He  is  not  the  only 


CHARLES    DICKENS.  H 

distinguished  Englishman  of  the  present  day  who  has 
occupied  this  position.  Mr.  Serjeant  Talfourd  was, 
in  early  life,  a  reporter  for  the  Times;  and  has  become 
eminent  as  a  dramatic  poet,  an  advocate,  and  a  parlia- 
mentary speaker.  In  1834,  Mr.  Dickens  first  appeared 
as  an  author,  by  contributions  to  the  Old  Monthly 
Magazine,  and  assumed  the  sobriquet — Boz;  a  name 
by  which  he  has  long  been  as  well  known  as  by  his 
patronymic.  These  papers  were  well  received,  with- 
out obtaining  for  him  high  reputation  as  a  writer.  In 
1836,  during  the  recess  of  Parliament,  when  the  Morn- 
ing Chronicle  was  not  pressed  with  articles  for  publica- 
tion, he  inserted  sketches,  by  Boz;  and  the  public 
attention  was  at  once  arrested  by  his  merits  as  an  author. 
These  sketches,  wTith  his  former  contributions  to  the 
Monthly,  were  re-published  in  the  same  year,  in  three 
volumes,  with  illustrations  by  Cruikshank.  He  then 
commenced  the  publication  of  the  Pickwick  Papers, 
with  a  very  limited  circulation — the  third  number  not 
exceeding  four  thousand.  When  the  series  was  com- 
pleted, the  circulation  amounted  to  thirty  thousand 
copies.  Oliver  Twist  and  Nicholas  Nickleby  followed 
in  rapid  succession;  and  when  they  were  completed, 
Dickens — who  had  been  a  writer  only  five  years — at 
the  age  of  twenty-seven,  was,  with  the  exceptionAof  S 
Byron  and  Scott,  the  most  popular  author  of  the 
century.  In  consequence  of  the  reputation  he  had  ob- 
tained by  these  creations  of  his  genius,  Master  Hum- 
phrey's Clock  had  a  circulation  much  more  numerous 
than  any  of  his  previous  works. 

When  I  say  that  Dickens  is,  with  two  exception.?; 


12  CHARLES   DICKENS. 

the  most  popular  author,  I  do  not  design  to  assert  that 
he  is  the  best  writer,  of  the  century.  His  merits  as  a 
writer  place  his  works  among-  the  standard  productions 
of  genius;  but  will  not  allow  us  to  assign  them,  apart 
from  his  subjects,  as  a  reason  for  his  extraordinary 
fame.  This  arises  as  much  from  the  character  of  his 
subjects,  as  from  the  composition.  A  writer  who  de- 
lights to  describe  the  fashionable  life  of  the  nobility  of 
Europe,  or  the  pomp  and  magnificence  of  feudal  times 
— subjects  which  have  no  connection  with  the  common 
sympathies  of  the  multitude — must  not  expect  to  rival 
in  popularity  the  author  who  presents  to  the  public 
mind  the  "simple  annals  of  the  poor." 

Mr.  Dickens'  style  of  writing  is  dramatic;  and  he- 
was  induced,  by  suggestions  from  the  reviewers,  to  at- 
tempt dramatic  composition.  He  produced  an  Opera 
at  the  St.  James'  Theatre,  entitled,  The  Village  Co- 
quettes; the  music  of  which  was  the  production  of  aM 
eminent  composer:  and,  subsequently,  an  interlude, 
Is  She  His  Wife?  was  written,  and  brought  forward  at 
the  same  Theatre.  The  success  of  these  efforts  was 
not  such  as  to  induce  him  to  continue  to  write  for  the 
stage.  Some  of  his  writings,  as  Oliver  Twist  and 
Nicholas  Nickleby,  were  dramatized  before  their  pub- 
lication was  completed  by  the  author  of  these  beautiful 
creations  of  genius.  This  probably  caused  him  to  in- 
troduce, a  second  time,  in  Nicholas  Nickleby,  the 
family  of  Vincent  Crummies,  the  country  manager; 
when,  in  the  supper  scene,  he  gives  utterance  to  a 
caustic,  and  most  indignant  philippic  against  those  who* 
dramatize  the  unfinished  works  of  an  author.     The 


CHARLES   DICKENS.  13 

most  popular  writers  of  fiction  do  not  usually  succeed 
in   dramatic   composition.     After  the   publication   of 
Evelina,  Miss  Burney  was  urged  by  many  friends — 
among  them  Sheridan  and  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds — to 
write  a  comedy.     Dr.  Johnson  declined  to  join  in  the 
solicitation;  and  the  result  proved  the  soundness  of  his 
judgment.     The  comedy  was  written,  and  suppressed 
by  the  advice  of  those  judges  in  whose  opinions  she 
placed    most    confidence.      But   the   failure    in    the 
drama  did  not  proceed  from  any  diminution  of  the 
talents  of  the  authoress.     She  afterwards  wrote  Cecilia, 
which  was  esteemed  a  more  finished  work  than  Eve- 
lina.    It  has  been  said  that  different  talents  are  requi- 
site for  the  two  species  of  writing,  though  they  are  by 
no  means  incompatible.     And  the  writer  from  whom 
I  borrow  this  sentiment,  explains  the  difference  by 
saying  that,  in  fiction,  the  author  has  as  large  a  range 
as  he  pleases  to  pick,  cull,  and  select  whatever  he  likes: 
he  takes  his  own  time,  and  may  be  as  minute  as  he 
pleases,  provided  that  taste,  with  a  deep  and  penetrating 
knowledge  of  human  nature  and  the  world,  accom- 
panies that  minuteness.     The   waiter   can   develope, 
and  lay  open  to  the  view  the  very  soul,  and  all  its  most 
secret  recesses.     But  these  advantages  and  resources 
are  curtailed  in  comedy.     There,  everything  passes  in 
dialogue — all  goes  on  rapidly:  narrative  and  descrip- 
tive writing,  if  not  short,  become  intolerable  in   the 
drama.     The  moment  the  scene  ceases  to  move  on 
briskly,  and  business  seems  to  hang,  the  audience  lose 
•all  patience.     But  Goldsmith  proved  that  the  talents 


2* 


14  CHARLES   DICKENS. 

requisite  for  the  two  kinds  of  writing  are  not  incom- 
patible; lie  excelled  as  a  novelist,  and  in  comedy. 

In  1834,  Mr.  Dickens  married  Miss  Hogarth,  a  pupil 
of  the  Royal  Academy  of  Music;  whose  father  was 
also  a  reporter  for  the  Morning'  Chronicle.  She  is  the 
grand-daughter  of  Mr.  George  Thomson  of  Edinburgh, 
the  friend  and  correspondent  of  Bums  who  published, 
many  years  since,  a  beautiful  work  entitled,  A  select 
collection  of  Original  Scottish  Airs  for  the  Yoice;  with 
accompaniments  by  Pleyel,  the  most  distinguished 
composer  of  that  day.  Pleyel  also  composed  an  in- 
strumental prelude  and  conclusion  to  each  Air,  by 
which  they  wTere  adapted  to  public  and  private  con- 
certs. At  the  solicitation  of  Mr.  Thomson,  Burns 
wrote  for  this  work  many  of  those  exquisite  songs — as 
Highland  Mary,  Brace's  Address,  Wandering  Willie — 
which  exercised  great  influence  over  his  countrymen, 
and  have  conferred  immortality  on  his  name.  A  sister 
of  Mr.  Dickens  is  married  to  Burnet,  the  singer  of  the 
St.  James'  Theatre.  His  other  sister  died  about  two 
years  since;  an  event  which  produced  such  distressing 
effects  on  his  mind  that  he  was  compelled  to  suspend, 
for  some  time,  his  literary  pursuits.  This  circumstance 
was  probably  the  cause  of  the  report  which  prevailed 
at  that  time,  that  he  was  deranged,  and  the  inmate  of 
a  Lunatic  Asylum.  He  has  shown  his  filial  gratitude 
by  purchasing  an  estate  for  his  father,  from  which  he 
derives  an  independent  support.  He  has  four  children; 
and  if  we  may  form  an  estimate  from  the  crayon 
sketch  which  exhibits  the  group,  with  flowing  locks 
and  sunny  faces,  no  man  ever  enjoyed,  in  a  higher 


CHARLES  DICKENS.  15 

degree,  the  blessing  of  the  Psalmist,  Thy  children 
shall  be  like  olive  plants  round  about  thy  table. 

Such  are  the  origin  and  domestic  associations  of  a 
man  whose  genius  has  introduced  him  to  all  the  literati 
of  the  day,  and  made  him  the  most  popular  of  living 
authors.  May  he  long  live  to  be  the  pride  and  sup- 
port of  this  domestic  circle,  and  to  delight  and  instruct 
the  world  with  the  beautiful  creations  of  a  genius 
which  has  made  him  a  distinguished  ornament  of  the 
age. 

Mr.  Dickens  receives  liberal  pecuniary  compensa- 
tion,.as  well  as  fame,  in  return  for  his  professional  la- 
bours. The  admirers  of  an  author  so  distinguished  for 
genius,  for  purity  of  private  and  public  character,  and 
for  the  exemplary  discharge  of  all  the  duties  of  the 
social  relations,  will  desire  that  his  emoluments  may 
equal  those  of  the  late  Wizard  of  the  North.  Such 
has  not  always  been  the  reward  of  genius.  The 
manuscript  of  Robinson  Crusoe  was  long  refused  by 
the  booksellers;  and  the  purchaser  made  a  profit  of  one 
thousand  guineas.  Goldsmith  sold  the  Vicar  of  Wake- 
field for  a  few  pounds.  Dr.  Johnson  received  two 
hundred  guineas  for  the  Lives  of  the  Poets,  and  the 
bookseller  made  twenty -five  thousand  pounds  sterling 
by  the  purchase.  Paradise  Lost  brought  Milton  five 
pounds;  and,  with  the  profits,  Tonson  and  his  family 
rode  in  carriages  which  rivalled  those  of  the  nobility. 
Fielding  offered  the  manuscript  of  Tom  Jones  for 
twenty-five  pounds,  and  the  purchase  was  declined. 
It  was  afterwards  bought  by  Millar  for  a  larger  sum; 
and,  before  his  death,   he   made  eighteen   thousand 


16  CHARLES  DICKENS. 

pounds  by  the  sale.  Englishmen  are  not  no  a-  allowed 
to  starve  in  obscure  alleys  and  garrets,  while  they  are 
producing  works  which  will  ever  remain  the  proudest 
monuments  of  their  country's  glory. 

The  genius  of  Scott  presented  Historical  Romance 
in  its  most  attractive  form.  Every  country  has  inci- 
dents and  associations  which  an  able  writer  could  de- 
scribe with  effect;  but  the  author  who  attempts  this 
species  of  composition  must  be  placed  in  contrast  with 
him  who,  with  graphic  power,  presented  to  the  world 
the  men,  the  deeds,  the  antiquities,  and  the  scenery  of 
his  country.  A  century  may  pass  before  a  waiter  will 
appear  to  take  the  crown  of  Historical  Romance  from 
the  head  of  the  author  of  Waverly.  Dickens  entered 
on  a  field  where  the  scythe  of  the  reaper  had  not  com- 
menced the  harvest;  unless  we  consider  him  a  disciple 
of  Fielding,  who,  in  the  Histoiy  of  a  Foundling,  pro- 
duced the  first  English  work  of  fiction  which  was 
painted  from  nature,  and  is  therefore  called  the  father 
of  the  English  Novel.  He  finds  his  heroes  in  the 
lanes  and  alleys  of  a  great  city;  the  massive  buildings 
which  confine  the  victims  of  crime  and  misfortune,  are 
invested  with  an  interest  surpassing  that  which  before 
liad  belonged  to  fabled  castles;  our  sympathies  are  en- 
listed in  the  fate  of  misery  and  guilt  clothed  in  rags, 
and  bowed  down  by  wretchedness.  He  describes  the 
sufferings  and  patient  virtues  of  those  who  appear  in 
the  humble  walks  of  life,  and  eloquently  appeals  to 
the  finest  sympathies  of  our  nature,  which,  under  all 
circumstances,  connect  man  with  man. 

The  characters  of  Dickens  speak  in  the  language 


CHARLES   DICKENS,  tf 

which  is  appropriate  to  their  respective  classes:  yet — 
like  the  writings  of  Lamb,  without  a  coarse  thought  or 
word — there  is  not,  in  any  page  of  his  works,  a  passage 
which  the  most  discreet  mother  would  hesitate  to  place 
in  the  hands  of  a  young  daughter.  In  this  respect  he 
differs  from  Bulwer,  whose  powerful  and  imaginative 
mind  fascinates  his  readers,  and  almost  makes  them 
insensible  to  the  immoralities  of  many  of  his  works, 
He  does  not  describe  an  Alice,  brought  up  in  ignorance 
and  isolation,  possessing  every  charm  of  feature  and 
person;  yet  lost  to  that  sense  of  the  preservation  of 
character  which,  without  education,  woman  is  taught 
by  the  instincts  of  her  nature:  thus  admitting  that 
woman  may  be  so  artless,  and  innocent  as  to  cease  to 
be  virtuous.  Nor  does  he  describe  an  Ernest  Mal- 
travers,with  every  accomplishment  of  mind  and  person, 
as  noble  in  his  character,  yet  insinuating  himself  into 
the  sanctuary  of  confiding  woman's  affections,  and,  ser- 
pent-like, robbing  her  of  that  jewel  without  which  she 
is  "poor  indeed:"  thus  teaching  that  men  may  be  re- 
garded as  noble,  and  worthy  of  admiration,  although 
they  deprive  female  youth  and  innocence  of  that 
purity  of  character,  on  the  preservation  of  which  the 
foundations  of  society  rest.  He  does  not  paint  a  man 
as  the  most  noble  and  generous  of  his  race,  and  yet 
the  seducer  of  the  wife  of  his  friend;  nor  give  attractive 
graces  to  the  murderer;  nor  describe  an  Eugene  Aram 
as  gifted  with  lofty  genius,  and  noble  in  thought, 
feeling,  and  action,  while  his  hands  were  stained  with 
the  blood  of  his  fellow-man.  It  is  not  said  that  Bul- 
wer is  the  avowed  apologist  of  such  actions:  but  the 


18  CHARLES  DICKENS. 

effect  is,  in  a  measure,  the  same  when  he  draws  the 
portraits  of  his  heroes  in  such  colours  as  to  enlist  the 
sympathy  and  admiration  of  the  reader,  and  ascribes 
the  criminal  actions  to  a  "strong  delusion,"  or  an 
"overpowering  necessity."  When  the  play,  The  Rob- 
bers, was  first  brought  out  on  the  German  stage,  the 
effect,  if  the  statement  can  be  depended  on,  was  most 
disastrous  on  the  young  nobility,  who  aimed  at  imita- 
tion of  the  hero;  and  the  piece  was  suppressed  by  the 
government.  Schiller,  when  he  wrote  the  play,  did 
not  design  to  entice  young  men  to  the  forests  of 
Bohemia:  but  Bulwer  cannot  be  allowed  to  plead  ig- 
norance of  effect,  as  an  apology  for  his  immoral  pro- 
ductions. 

Although  the  class  of  subjects  chosen  by  Dickens 
might  be  supposed  to  expose  him  to  the  danger  of  vul- 
garity, there  is  nothing  offensive  to  the  severest  deli- 
cacy in  his  delineations;  and  it  is  said  that,  in  England, 
his  writings  are  most  popular  amongst  the  women  of 
the  higher  circles.  I  have  somewhere  seen  it  stated, 
that  a  celebrated  London  beauty  jocularly  proposed  a 
party,  to  which  none  were  to  be  admissible  who  did 
not  consider  Sam  Weller  essentially  a  gentleman. 
The  author  of  Nicholas  Niekleby  draws  admirable 
portraits,  and  his  characters  are  well  sustained  under 
all  circumstances.  He  excels  in  pathetic  description, 
and  in  painting  the  beauties  of  nature.  I  select  the 
following  description  from  the  story,  The  Five  Sisters 
of  York,  in  the  sixth  chapter  of  this  work:  "They 
were  tall  stately  figures  with  dark  flashing  eyes  and 
hair  of  jet;  dignity  and  grace  were  in  their  every  move- 


CHARLES  DICKENS.  19 

ment,  and  the  fame  of  their  great  beauty  had  spread 
through  all  the  country  round.  But  if  the  four  elder 
sisters  were  lovely,  how  beautiful  was  the  youngest,  a 
fair  creature  of  sixteen!  The  blushing  tints  in  the  soft 
bloom  on  the  fruit,  or  the  delicate  painting  on  the 
flower,  are  not  more  exquisite  than  was  the  rose  and  lily 
in  her  gentle  face,  or  the  deep  blue  of  her  eye.  The 
vine,  in  all  its  elegant  luxuriance,  is  not  more  graceful, 
than  were  the  clusters  of  rich  brown  hair  that  sported 
around  her  brow. 

"If  we  all  had  hearts  like  those  which  beat  so  lightly 
in  the  bosoms  of  the  young  and  beautiful,  what  a 
heaven  this  earth  would  be!  If,  while  our  bodies  grew 
old  and  withered,  our  hearts  could  but  retain  their  early 
youth  and  freshness,  of  what  avail  would  be  our  sor- 
rows and  sufferings!  But  the  faint  image  of  Eden 
which  is  stamped  upon  them  in  childhood,  chafes  and 
rubs  in  our  rough  struggles  with  the  world,  and  soon 
wears  away:  too  often  to  leave  nothing  but  a  mournful 
blank  remaining. 

"The  heart  of  this  fair  girl  bounded  with  joy  and 
gladness.  Devoted  attachment  to  her  sisters,  and  a 
fervent  love  of  all  beautiful  things  in  nature,  were  its 
pure  affections.  Her  gleesome  voice  and  merry  laugh 
were  the  sweetest  music  of  their  home.  She  was  its 
very  light  and  life.  The  brightest  flowers  in  the  garden 
were  reared  by  her;  the  caged  birds  sang  when  they 
heard  her  voice,  and  pined  when  they  missed  its  sweet- 
ness. Alice,  dear  Alice;  what  living  thing  within  the 
sphere  of  her  gentle  witchery,  could  fail  to  love  her!" 

This  is  a  tale  of  deep  pathos  and  surpassing  beauty: 


20  CHARLES   DICKENS. 

a  tale  in  which  nature  is  clothed  in  her  loveliest  charms; 
and  woman  pencilled  with  colours  which  make  her  to 
rival  the  lily  of  the  valley;  the  social  and  domestic  af- 
fections portrayed  in  a  manner  that  almost  disposes  us 
to  believe  that  heaven  may  be  found  on  earth;  but 
which  closes  with  the  stern  realities  that  belong  to  the 
lot  of  man. 

Nicholas  Nickleby  is  perhaps  the  chef-d'oeuvre  of 
Mr.  Dickens;  and  if  be  had  written  nothing  more, 
would  secure  the  transmission  of  his  name  to  posterity. 
The  characters  are  admirably  drawn,  and  well  sus- 
tained to  the  end.  Squeers  is  a  mean  and  cruel 
pedagogue;  and  a  coward,  because  cruel  and  mean. 
Henceforward  if  you  call  a  man  a  Squeers,  you  give 
him  a  character.  Smike  is  an  admirable  illustration 
of  helplessness  suffering  under  oppression;  and  mani- 
festing, in  all  his  lowliness,  traits  of  character  which, 
in  their  dev elopement,  exalt  human  nature.  Lord 
Frederick  and  Sir  Mulberry  uniformly  act  as  if  they 
believed  the  world  was  made  for  their  special  gratifica- 
tion. Tim  Linkinwater,  Brother  Charles  says,  was 
bom  a  hundred  and  fifty  years  old,  and  was  gradually 
coming  down  to  five  and  twenty.  This  one  sentence 
contains  a  description  of  a  fine  character:  that  of  a 
man  advanced  in  life,  whose  love  of  all  young  and 
beautiful  objects  increased  with  every  passing  year. 
This  cultivation  of  a  child -like  spirit  is  but  a  prepara- 
tion for  heaven:  "Whosoever  shall  not  receive  the 
kingdom  of  God  as  a  little  child  shall  in  no  wise  enter 
therein."  Ralph  Nickleby  is  a  consummate  villain, 
willing  to  sacrifice  his  lovely  niece  to  titled  profligacy, 


CHARLES   DICKENS.  21 

for  the  gratification  of  that  meanest  and  most  debasing 
of  ail  passions — the  love  of  money  for  its  own  sake, 
and  not  for  the  comforts  it  enables  us  to  enjoy,  and  the 
blessings  we  may  scatter  around  us.  The  interview 
between  him  and  Arthur  Gride  is  admirable;  Ralph 
seated  on  a  high  office-stool — bold,  calculating,  cold, 
cunning:  Gride  crouched  on  a  low  seat — timid,  mean, 
sensual,  devilish.  Nicholas  and  Kate  are  almost  per- 
fect characters;  and  all  their  words  and  actions  are 
prompted  by  a  noble  nature — the  only  true  nobility. 
Nicholas  is  intelligent,  chivalrous,  honourable,  com- 
passionate— the  very  man  to  produce  in  woman  the 
feeling  which  Othello  excited  in  Desdemona,  "She 
lov'd  me  for  the  dangers  I  had  pass'd."  What  shall  I 
say  of  Kate?  No  Italian  master  ever  painted  a  more 
beautiful  portrait  on  canvass  than  Dickens  has  deline- 
ated in  this  lovely  character.  Like  Rosamund  Gray, 
she  is  "gentle  as  a  smiling  infant — affectionate  as  a 
weaned  lamb."  But  this  soft  and  delicate  creature, 
whose  elastic  step  would  scarcely  crush  the  lowliest 
floweret  of  the  field,  when  ensnared  by  her  uncle,  and 
surrounded  at  his  house  by  those  whose  presence  was 
•contamination  to  angelic  purity  like  hers,  acted  with 
energy  and  decision  far  more  deserving  of  commenda- 
tion than  the  conduct  of  the  Roman  Lucretia. 

Who  could  describe  the  glorious  old  twins — Brothers 
Charles  and  Ned?  They  are  descended  from  Sir  Roger 
de  Coverly,  who  flourished  more  than  a  century  before 
the  time  of  the  Brothers  Cheeryble.  The  reader  will 
be  pleased,  for  the  honour  of  human  nature,  to  learn 
from  the  author  that  they  are  not  the  creations  of  his 
3 


22  CHARLES  DICKENS. 

own  fancy;  but  that  they  lived,  and  by  their  munifi- 
cent and  generous  deeds  became  the  pride  of  their 
town.  One  of  the  originals  of  the  Brothers  Cheeryble 
— William  Grant,  of  Manchester — died  during  the  visit 
of  Mr.  Dickens  to  the  United  States.  Mr.  Munro,  of 
Manchester,  delivered  an  eloquent  eulogy  on  his  char 
acter,  as  that  of  a  "merchant-prince"  whose  heart  was  a 
fountain  of  generous  compassion,  always  gushing  forth 
in  the  cause  of  humanity:  whose  affection  for  his 
parents  while  living,  and  deep  reverence ,  for  their 
memory  when  dead,  was  crowned  by  unostentatious 
piety,  and  a  grateful  recognition  of  Divine  Providence 
in  the  prosperity  which  attended  him  through  a  long 
life  of  successful  commercial  pursuits,  and  of  benefac- 
tion to  the  poor.  The  hearts  of  the  Brothers — to  use 
a  very  expressive  phrase — are  in  the  right  place;  full  of 
all  kind  and  tender  emotions;  manifesting  unbounded 
benevolence  and  beneficence  towards  suffering  virtue, 
and  equally  unbounded  abhorrence  of  vice.  What 
son,  whose  beloved  parent  has  gone  home  to  heaven, 
does  not  feel  that  some  sympathetic  chord  in  his  own 
bosom  is  touched,  when  the  Brothers  Cheeryble  drink, 
"To  the  memory  of  our  Mother!" 

We  might  have  supposed  that  the  author  had  a  suffi- 
cient number  of  prominent  characters  on  his  hands  to 
give  ample  employment  to  his  powers  of  delineation: 
but,  after  having  completed  more  than  half  the  work, 
he  boldly  introduces  another,  and  sustains  it  with  a 
success  which  proves  it  is  safe  to  follow  the  inspiration 
of  genius.  Madeline  Bray  displays  the  virtue  of  the 
Koman  daughter  who  daily  visited  her  father  in  prison <, 


CHARLES   DICKENS.  23 

that  the  pure  fountain  of  her  own  bosom  might  pour 
out  for  him  its  life -preserving  stream.  With  what  deli- 
cacy Brother  Charles  contributes  to  the  relief  of  this 
daughter  of  his  early  love!  He  purchases,  at  a  high 
price,  the  work  of  her  delicate  fingers;  and  thus  enables 
her  to  support  a  worthless  father,  who,  having  broken 
the  heart  of  one  loving,  gentle,  and  confiding  woman — 
that  greatest  blessing  which  heaven  in  its  kindness  can 
bestow  upon  man — did  not  deserve  that  this  almost 
angel,  before  she  departed  from  earth,  should  leave  him 
a  daughter  to  comfort  and  sustain  him  in  his  lonely, 
helpless  wretchedness.  As  the  reward  of  virtue  how 
beautifully  does  Dickens  exclaim,  "There  is  one  broad 
sky  over  all  the  world;  and  whether  it  be  blue  or  cloudy, 
the  same  heaven  is  beyond  it."  The  manner  in  which 
Madeline  is  to  be  supported  was  evidently  suggested 
by  the  beautiful  scene  between  Boaz  and  Ruth,  where 
we  observe  the  refined  delicacy  of  the  order  privately 
given  by  Boaz  to  his  young  men,  to  let  fall  in  her  way 
handfuls  of  the  harvest,  that  she  might  gather  them, 
and  thus  have  her  gleanings  increased  without  the  ap- 
pearance of  receiving  charity.  Sterne,  the  founder  of 
sentimental  writing,  often  imitated  the  delightful  sim- 
plicity of  the  story  of  Joseph  and  his  brethren. 

If  Nicholas  Nickleby  be  the  best  work  of  Dickens, 
the  little  Nell  of  the  Old  Curiosity  Shop  is  his  best 
character.  She  is  one  of  the  finest  and  sweetest  crea- 
tions of  modern  times.  He  raises  this  lovely  floweret 
from  its  lowly  bed  and  scatters  the  perfume  on  the  air, 
as  the  rose,  sparkling  with  dew,  exhales  its  sweetness 
beneath  the  young  morning's  sun.     Mr.  Dickens  stated^ 


24  CHARLES   DICKENS 

at  a  dinner  given  to  him  at  Edinburgh,  and  in  reply 
to  an  allusion  to  Nell  by  Professor  Wilson,  that  as  the 
work  approached  a  close,  and  the  fate  he  intended  for 
her  broke  on  the  minds  of  his  readers,  he  received 
numerous  letters  remonstrating  against  his  purpose. 
He  was  inflexible;  and  afterwards  they  were  foremost 
in  approving  his  determination.  It  is  proper  that  the 
tender  flower — before  it  is  prematurely  blighted  by  the 
winds  and  snows  of  winter — should  be  transplanted  to 
a  more  genial  clime,  where  it  may  flourish  in  immortal 
freshness.  When  little  angels  are  lent  to  the  world,  it 
is  but  for  a  short  period:  they  are  soon  recalled  to  the 
more  peaceful  society  of  heaven.  They  said  Nell 
would  be  an  angel  before  the  birds  sang  again.  The 
Spring  arrived — that  beautiful  and  happy  time — and 
the  birds  renewed  their  songs;  but,  "She  was  dead. 
No  sleep  so  beautiful  and  calm,  so  free  from  trace  of 
pain,  so  fair  to  look  upon.  She  seemed  a  creature 
fresh  from  the  hand  of  God,  and  waiting  for  the  breath 
of  life;  not  one  that  had  lived  and  suffered  death. 

"She  was  dead.  Dear,  gentle,  patient,  noble  Nell 
was  dead.  Her  little  bird — a  poor  slight  thing  the 
pressure  of  a  finger  would  have  crushed — was  stirring 
nimbly  in  its  cage;  and  the  strong  heart  of  its  child- 
mistress  was  mute  and  motionless  forever. 

"Where  were  the  traces  of  her  early  cares,  her  suffer- 
ings, and  fatigues?  All  gone.  His  was  the  true  death 
before  their  weeping  eyes.  Sorrow  was  dead  indeed 
in  her,  but  peace  and  perfect  happiness  were  born; 
imaged  in  her  tranquil  beauty  and  profound  repose. 

"Oh!  It  is  hard  to  take  to  heart  the  lesson  that  such 


CHARLES   DICKENS.  25 

deaths  will  teach,  but  let  no  man  reject  it,  for  it  is  one 
that  all  must  learn,  and  is  a  mighty  universal  Truth. 
When  Death  strikes  down  the  innocent  and  young,  for 
every  fragile  form  from  which  he  lets  the  panting  spirit 
free,  a  hundred  virtues  rise,  in  shapes  of  mercy,  charity, 
and  love,  to  walk  the  world,  and  bless  it  with  their 
light.  Of  every  tear  that  sorrowing  mortals  shed  on 
such  green  graves,  some  good  is  born,  some  gentler 
nature  comes.  In  the  Destroyer's  steps  there  spring 
up  bright  creations  that  defy  his  power,  and  his  dark 
path  becomes  a  way  of  light  to  Heaven." 

I  have  said  that  Mr.  Dickens  is  the  most  popular  of 
living  authors.  Will  he  retain  his  popularity?  is  a 
question  which  it  would  be  difficult  to  answer.  If  we 
attempt  to  answer  it,  we  must  not  forget  that  he  owes 
his  popularity  as  much  to  his  selection  of  subjects,  as 
to  his  ability  as  a  writer.  He  gives  us  graphic  delinea- 
tions of  the  impulses,  habits,  and  passions  of  indi- 
viduals and  classes;  and  reveals  the  mysteries,  and 
excites  the  finest  sympathies  of  human  nature,  in  con- 
nection with  scenes  of  the  deepest  interest,  and  the 
manifestation  of  his  own  true  regard  for  his  fellow- 
man.  He  has  a  deep  and  genuine  love  of  the  beauti- 
ful in  man  and  in  nature.  Dr.  Lever — author  of 
Charles  O'Malley — is  thought  by  some  readers  to  be 
superior  to  Dickens  as  a  writer.  He  has  a  free,  manly, 
dashing  mode  of  sketching  life,  manners,  and  humor- 
ous incidents;  but  for  the  attainment  of  a  wide-spread 
popularity,  it  is  one  thing  to  sketch  scenes  in  the  Pen- 
insular War,  and  at  Lady  Richmond's  ball;  and  quite  a 
different  thing  to  describe  Dotheboys  Hall,  and  Oliver, 
3* 


26  CHARLES  DICKENS. 

and  little  Nell.  It  was  said,  five  years  since,  by  an 
English  writer,  that,  "The  Posthumous  Papers  of  the 
Pickwick  Club  is  regarded  as  his  great  work  by  which 
- — if  ever— the  names  of  Boz  and  Dickens  are  to  de- 
scend to  posterity."  That  writer  must  have  felt  proud 
of  his  prophetic  skill  as  he  read,  in  succession,  Oliver 
Twist,  Nicholas  Nickleby,  and  the  Old  Curiosity  Shop. 
The  continuance  of  the  popularity  of  Dickens,  as 
an  author,  will  depend  on  the  answer  to  three  ques- 
tions. Has  he  the  ability  to  continue  to  write  fiction 
as  good  as  the  above  mentioned  works?  Would  such 
works  continue  to  interest  the  public,  in  an  equal  de- 
gree? If,  from  want  of  ability  to  continue  to  produce, 
or  from  satiet)^  in  his  readers,  he  fail  in  his  own  pecu- 
liar species  of  Composition,  could  he  find,  or  create 
another  road  to  popularity?  At  the  age  of  thirty,  and 
carried  along  by  the  flowing  tide  of  popular  favour, 
these  questions  cannot  be  answered.  His  last  work — 
Barnaby  Rudge — is  not  equal  to  its  three  nearest  pre- 
decessors: but  no  man  of  genius,  whether  conversa- 
tionist, orator,  or  writer  is,  on  every  occasion,  equal  to 
himself.  The  great  Homer  sometimes  nods.  We 
cannot,  with  Dr.  Johnson,  define  genius  as,  A  mind  of 
large  general  powers  accidentally  determined  by  some 
particular  direction;  as  this  is,  more  properly,  a  defini- 
tion of  universal  genius.  In  another  place  he  de- 
scribes genius  with  more  accuracy,  as,  The  power  of 
mind  that  collects,  combines,  amplifies,  and  animates; 
the  energy,  without  which  judgment  is  cold,  and  know- 
ledge is  inert.  But  the  mind  of  Dickens  is  scarcely 
matured.     He  has  not  yet  arrived  at  the  age  beyond 


CHARLES  DICKENS.  27 

which,  Dr.  Johnson  says,  the  mind  never  advances, 
inasmuch  as  the  powers  of  nature  have  attained  their 
intended  energy.  Unless  he  tax  his  powers  too  far, 
the  age  of  forty,  or  forty-five  will  present  him  to  us  in 
full  intellectual  manhood.  If  he  have  only  one  rich 
vein  in  his  mine^  and  works  that  day  and  night,  the 
abundance  of  the  precious  metal  will  not  continue  to 
reward  the  toil  of  the  miner.  The  mind  of  Shak- 
speare  was  inexhaustible:  it  was,  as  Ben  Jonson  finely 
says,  the  sphere  of  humanity.  Goethe  compares  his 
characters  to  watches  with  dial-plates  of  transparent 
crystal,  which  shew  the  hour,  and  enable  us  to  see  the 
inward  mechanism.  It  has  been  said  that  the  fertile 
genius  of  Shakspeare  as  a  poet,  and  that  of  Bacon  as 
a  philosopher,  exhausted  the  whole  world  of  nature. 
But  the  mines  of  intellect,  like  those  of  the  natural 
world,  must  be  Worked  with  judgment.  Our  modern 
Hogarth  writes  too  often  and  too  fast;  taking  advantage, 
I  suppose,  of  that  tide  in  the  affairs  of  men  which 
leads  to  fortune.  I  have  no  doubt  that  one  prominent 
motive  which  prompted  him  to  visit  this  country,  was 
a  consciousness  that  his  mind  had  been  overworked, 
and  required  rest  and  a  new  train  of  associations. 
Like  Scott,  he  indulges  too  much  in  the  impromptu 
style  of  writing.  The  facility  with  which  a  given 
amount  of  extempore  composition  is  produced,  in- 
creases by  habit:  the  quality  is  a  veiy  different  matter. 
Literary  men  might  recollect,  with  advantage,  the  re- 
mark of  Bentley,  who,  when  a  critic  threatened  to 
write  him  down,  replied,  No  author  was  ever  written 
down  but  by  himself.     The  advice  of  Horace  to  an 


28  CHARLES  DICKENS. 

author  is  to  keep  his  book  nine  years  in  his  study,  that 
he  may  review  and  correct.  Gray's  Elegy  has  per- 
haps been  more  read  and  admired  than  any  composition, 
in  the  English  language.  The  author  commenced 
the  piece  seven  years  before  it  was  completed:  it  has 
had  many  imitators,  but  has  never  been  equalled. 
Shakspeare  and  Milton  would  never  have  been  the 
glory  of  England  if  they  had  not  thought  with  inten- 
sity before  they  wrote.  Such  were  the  labour  and  en- 
thusiasm of  Milton,  that  he  refused  to  abandon  one  of 
his  works,  notwithstanding  he  was  assured  by  his  phy- 
sicians that  its  completion  would  produce  a  loss  of  his 
sight. 

Some  are  disposed  to  predict  the  failure  of  Dickens: 
comparing  him,  perhaps,  to  a  noble  three-year-old 
which  accomplishes  wonderful  feats  on  the  course,  and 
then  "lets  down."  Others  think  he  has  "bottom"  as 
well  as  speed.  Scott  was  more  than  thirty  years  old 
when  he  commenced  his  Metrical  Romances.  The 
public  interest  in  his  poetry  was  maintained  beyond 
half  a  score  of  years;  and  when  it  began  to  manifest 
satiety,  his  Prose  Romances  appeared,  and  procured  for 
their  author  the  title  of  The  Great  Magician.  When 
he  wrote  Waverly  he  was  forty- two  years  old;  at  the 
present  age  of  Mr.  Dickens  he  was  unknown  to  fame. 
At  that  age  he  was  Sheriff  of  Selkirkshire:  twelve 
years  later  he  commenced  the  works  which  made  him 
Sir  Walter  Scott,  Baronet,  of  Abbotsford.  Goldsmith 
was  near  his  fortieth  year  when  he  published  his  most 
popular  poems.  Milton  had  passed  his  half  century 
before  he  began  the  composition  of  Paradise  Lost;  and 


CHARLES   DICKENS,  29 

he  completed  it  in  seven  years — a  period  exceeding- 
that  employed  by  Dickens  in  writing-  all  his  works. 
What  will  be  the  estimate  placed  upon  these  works  in 
the  next  century?  That  is  a  very  different  question. 
But  the  same  may  be  said  of  Scott.  If  we  may  judge 
from  the  reception  of  Zanoni,  Bulwer,  who  has  so 
long  been  eminent  as  a  writer  of  fiction,  has  produced 
satiety,  and  must  find  a  new  road  to  popularity.  Works 
written  for  amusement  are  g-enerally  produced  with  ra- 
pidity. It  is  easier  to  write  a  work  in  three  volumes 
than  in  one — condensation  being-  more  difficult  than 
amplification.  A  celebrated  orator  of  antiquity  having 
detained  a  public  assembly  with  a  long  speech,  apolo- 
gized by  saying  he  had  not  had  time  to  make  it  shorter. 
Sheridan  says,  "Easy  writing  is  sometimes  *  *  *  *  hard 
reading."  Hence  works  written  for  amusement  lose, 
with  their  novelty,  half  their  charm.  Our  age  receives 
with  favour  one  style  of  writing:  the  close  of  the  cen- 
tury may  require  a  very  different  style.  Many  authors 
— before  and  since  the  time  of  Lope  de  Yega — have 
attained  unbounded  popularity  with  their  own  age, 
whose  names  now  are  but  little  known.  Cervantes 
and  John  Bunyan  were  very  obscure  in  their  life-time; 
and  wrote  Don  Quixotte  and  Pilgrim's  Progress  while 
confined  in  prison,  with  sufficient  time  for  thought. 
Their  names  and  works  are  alike  immortal.  Dante 
says  he  is  "growing  grey"  while  writing  the  Divina 
Commedia;  but  that  work  was  not  written  for  his  own 
century.  Montesquieu  wrote  an  article,  for  his  Esprit 
des  Loix,  on  the  origin  and  revolutions  of  the  civil 
laws  in  France;  and  says,  "You  will  read  it  in  three 


30  CHARLES   DICKENS. 

hours;  but  I  do  assure  you  that  it  cost  me  so  much 
labour  that  it  has  whitened  my  hair."  It  has  been 
computed  that  of  the  one  thousand  books  published 
annually  in  Great  Britain,  scarcely  ten  are  thought  of 
after  twenty  years.  Paradise  Lost  and  Shakspeare's 
Plays  are  numbered  among"  the  ten:  but  Milton  and 
the  Avon  bard  were  not  easy  and  extempore  writers. 
If  a  laborious  writer  should  be  asked  why  he  composed 
with  so  much  care  and  thought,  he  might  answer,  with 
the  artist  who  replied  to  a  similar  question,  I  paint  for 
eternity. 

Three  years  ago  I  called  Dickens  the  Hogarth  of 
prose  fiction;  the  comparison  between  them  failing  in 
this,  that  the  painter  is  often  coarse,  as  will  be  recol- 
lected by  those  who  have  examined  his  Progresses:  the 
writer  is  always  delicate.  His  subsequent  productions 
have  not  destroyed  the  points  of  the  parallel.  An 
English  author,  during  the  last  year,  drew  a  com- 
parison between  them,  and  says,  "The  same  species  of 
power  displays  itself  in  each.  Like  Hogarth,  Dickens 
takes  a  keen  and  practical  view  of  life;  is  an  able 
satirist;  very  successful  in  depicting  the  ludicrous  side 
of  human  nature,  and  rendering  its  follies  more  appa- 
rent by  humorous  exaggeration;  and  is  peculiarly  skil- 
ful in  his  management  of  details.  He  is  a  very  origi- 
nal author,  well  entitled  to  his  popularity,  and  is  the 
truest  and  most  spirited  delineator  of  English  life 
among  the  middling  and  lower  classes  of  society  since 
the  days  of  Smollett  and  Fielding."  He  makes  men 
act  as  they  appear  in  real  life.  He  has  no  mock-heroics 
—no  overstrained  descriptions — no  sickening  sentimen- 


CHARLES   DICKENS.  31 

talkies.  Artificial  manners  are  false  manners.  Sim- 
plicity is  essential  in  our  estimate  of  high  polish  and 
refinement.  And  what  is  tine  of  personal  accomplish- 
ment, is  no  less  true  of  writing-.  The  object  of  the 
writer  of  fiction  should  be  to, 

"Catch  the  manners,  living,  as  they  rise." 

The  unexampled  success  of  Dickens  has  produced 
imitators  of  his  style  of  writing.  There  is  something 
so  easy,  so  natural,  in  the  works  of  genius  which  pro- 
duces the  conviction  that  it  would  not  be  difficult  to 
equal  them:  but  the  imitator  shares  the  fate  of  Icarus 
who  rashly  attempted,  with  his  wings  of  wax,  to  follow 
the  course  of  the  eagle  in  his  flight  towards  the  region  of 
the  sun.  A  description  of  vulgar,  or  profligate  life  may 
be  made  to  attract  attention  for  the  hour,  even  when  the 
author  possesses  moderate  powers.  But  it  requires  ge- 
nius of  a  very  high  order  to  describe  human  nature  in  its 
lowest  grades,  so  as  to  excite  those  sympathies  of  our 
character  which  connect  the  outcasts  of  our  race  with 
the  great  human  family:  to  portray  man,  corrupted 
from  childhood  by  profligate  association,  and  debased 
by  sensual  indulgence,  yet  having  a  spark  in  his  bosom 
which  may  be  kindled  into  a  burning  light;  and  Which, 
as  the  feeblest  pulsation  shews  the  presence  of  life, 
proves  that  the  soul  within  him  came  down  from 
heaven.  It  is  then  we  feel  that  God  is  our  common 
Father;  and  that  man— even  when  debased — is  still 
our  brother.  Human  nature  is  never  so  far  degraded 
as  to  lose  all  the  sympathies  which  connect  us  with 
our  species;  and  even  a  reprobate  son,  when  standing 


32  CHARLES  DICKENS. 

in  the  presence  of  a  mother  whose  life  he  had  embit- 
tered, may  feel  the  inextinguishable  impulses  of  his 
nature  swell  within  his  bosom.  A  fountain  may  be 
concealed  from  the  view,  and  its  existence  unknown; 
but,  if  you  remove  the  obstruction,  it  gushes  forth,  and 
imparts  its  living  waters  to  the  weary  traveller. 

Ainsworth  is  one  of  the  imitators  of  Dickens,  without 
an  approach  to  rivalship.  One  of  his  female  charac- 
ters is  well  drawn.  Her  nature  is  truly  feminine;  and 
there  is  that  quiet,  meek  submission  to  accumulated 
misery  which  belongs  to  the  character  of  woman. 
Stern  man,  like  the  mountain  oak,  is  uprooted  and 
prostrated  by  the  violence  of  the  storm;  while  woman 
— delicate  woman — -bends  before  it  like  the  osier  bough, 
and  rises  again.  Her  husband  had  died  ignominiously; 
she  was  steeped  in  poverty;  temptation,  in  that  form  more 
repulsive  than  death  to  virtuous  woman,  had  assailed 
her:  and — as  if  to  make  the  cup  of  misery  overflow, 
and  then  present  its  very  dregs  to  her  lips — her  son 
was  outcast  and  outlawed.  The  cords  of  that  delicate 
instrument — the  human  mind — snapped  asunder,  and 
she  became  a  raving  maniac.  But  there  is  a  striking 
contrast  between  the  moral  tendency  of  the  writings  of 
Dickens,  and  of  those  of  Ainsworth  and  others  of  the 
same  school,  which  tend  to  convince  active  and  uned- 
ucated youth  that,  by  following  the  examples  of  Dick 
Turpin,  Guy  Fawkes,  and  Jack  Sheppard,  they  may 
acquire  a  romantic  immortality.  If  the  love  of  his 
species  be  a  part  of  the  character  of  Ainsworth,  he  will, 
after  having  read  the  Sixth  Report  of  the  Inspector  of 
Prisons  in  England,  regret  having  written  Jack  Shep- 


CHARLES  DICKENS,  35 

pard,   and  other  contributions  to  Felon  Literature — 
a  species  of  writing  so  common  in  the  present  day. 

The  remark  has  often  been  made,  that  We  cannot 
judge  of  the  personal  character  of  an  author  from  his 
writings.  The  remark  may  be  true  if  confined  to 
portions  of  his  works;  but  the  view  of  the  whole  will 
give  us  some  defined  idea  of  his  moral  creed.  A 
licentious  man  could  not  easily  be  a  voluminous,  and  a 
chaste  writer.  The  volcanic  fire  within  the  mountain 
would  sometimes  burst  out,  and  melt  the  snow  on  its 
summit.  Sterne  should  not  be  judged  by  his  chapters 
on  Le  Fevre,  Maria  of  Moulines,  and  the  Dead  Ass. 
They  give  us  no  reason  to  suppose  the  writer  would 
refuse  to  make  provision  for  his  suffering  mother. 
His  true  character  is  better  inferred  from  Tristram 
Shandy.  The  Tale  of  a  Tub,  and  Gulliver's  Travels 
furnish  the  correct  view  of  the  man  who  could  break 
the  heart  of  poor  Stella.  But  all  the  writings  of 
Dickens  allow  us  to  infer  that  he  would  provide  an 
independent  support  for  his  father;  that  he  would  be 
most  exemplary  in  the  discharge  of  all  the  duties  of 
the  domestic  and  social  relations;  that  he  would  suffer 
intense  agony  from  the  loss  of  a  sister.  He  confers 
honour  on  his  country  and  his  species;  and  every 
admirer  of  genius  in  union  with  virtue,  will  wish  that 
he  may  live  to  erect — if  he  have  not  already  accom- 
plished the  work — -an  imperishable  literary  monument 
for  England, 

"That  land  of  scholars,  and  that  nurse  of  arms." 


CHARLES  LAMB. 

If  the  reader  have  ever  seen  the  sketch — Yours 
ratherish  unwell — in  which  Lamb  is  represented  as 
resting  his  anns  on  a  table,  and  poring  over  some  of 
his  old  favourite  books,  the  impression  made  on  him 
will  not  be  easily  effaced.  The  slender  limbs,  and 
diminutive  and  ungraceful  body,  are  in  striking  con- 
trast with  a  head  of  the  finest  and  most  intellectual 
cast;  such  a  head  as  is  said  to  be  occasionally  seen  in 
the  best  of  the  portraits  of  Titian.  The  view  of  this 
sketch  enables  us  to  judge  of  the  correctness  of  the 
description  of  Lamb  by  Leigh  Hunt:  aAs  is  his  frame, 
so  is  his  genius.  It  is  as  fit  for  thought  as  can  be,  and 
equally  unfit  for  action."  Wordsworth  describes  him 
as,  The  rapt  one  of  the  god-like  forehead.  Barry  Corn- 
wall— Mr.  Procter — gives  his  portrait  as,  "A  little  spare 
man  in  black,  with  a  countenance  pregnant  with 
expression,  deep  lines  in  his  forehead,  quick,  luminous, 
and  restless  eyes,  and  a  smile  as  sweet  as  ever  threw 
sunshine  upon  a  human  face."  When  we  recollect 
that,  with  bodily  structure  so  unfit  for  active  life,  he 
passed  thirty-five  years  in  the  India  House,  we  will 
be  prepared  to  believe  that  the  incidents  which  attracted 
the  public  mew  to  the  monotony  of  his  existence, were  the 


^6  CHARLES  LAMB. 

appearance  of  those  productions  of  his  genius  which 
have  conferred  immortality  on  his  name.  The  lives 
of  literary  men  are  generally  passed  in  retirement. 
What  is  true  of  piety  is  also  true  of  literature:  emi- 
nence is  attained  by  deep  self-communion. 

Charles  Lamb  was  bom  in.  London,  February,  1775, 
of  humble,  but  highly  worthy  parents.  We  may 
apply  to  him,  with  peculiar  propriety,  the  remark 
which  has  been  made  of  men  of  genius:  " These  men 
have  neither  ancestors  nor  posterity;  they  alone  com- 
pose their  whole  race."  At  the  age  of  seventeen  he 
entered  as  a  clerk  in  the  India  House,  and  continued 
in  that  employment  until  1825,  when  he  retired  on  a 
pension  equal  to  two-thirds  of  his  salary.  This  pen- 
sion was  settled  on  him  by  the  Company  with  great 
liberality,  and  supported  him  during  the  ten  remaining 
years  of  his  life.  He  received  a  slight  injury  on  the 
face  by  an  accidental  fall:  this  caused  erysipelatous 
inflammation  of  the  head,  which  terminated  his  life, 
after  a  few  days  of  illness,  in  December,  1834,  at  the 
age  of  sixty. 

Lamb  was  not  an  author  by  profession.  The  early 
age  at  which  he  entered  the  India  House,  and  his  con- 
tinuance in  that  employment  until  he  was  fifty  years 
old,  did  not  allow  the  ardent  pursuit  of  literature  dur- 
ing that  important  period  of  his  life.  This  will 
account  for  the  fact,  that  one  of  the  finest  minds  of 
this,  or  any  other  age,  did  not  produce  more  for  pos- 
terity. But,  as  he  was  not  dependent  on  his  pen  for 
support,  he  did  not  write  until  his  mind  was  full  of  his 
subject;  and  then  he  had  leisure  to  bestow  a  proper 


CHARLES  LAMB.  37 

degree  of  attention  to  the  composition.  He  confined 
his  reading,  chiefly,  to  the  old  authors  of  the  Elizabe- 
than Era;  and  perhaps  this  circumstance  contributed 
to  make  him  so  great  a  master  of  the  English  lan- 
guage, and  one  of  the  most  correct  writers  of  the  age. 
He  was  delighted  with  old  authors,  like  Thomas  Ful- 
ler, who  said,  Though  reasons  are  the  pillars  of  the 
fabric,  similitudes  are  the  windows  which  give  the 
best  lights.  By  an  intimate  acquaintance  with  such 
authors,  he  cultivated  the  wit  which,  Barrow  says, 
Lieth  in  pat  allusions  to  a  known  story,  in  play  with 
words  and  phrases,  in  seasonable  application  of  a  tri- 
vial saying,  in  tart  irony,  aflected  simplicity,  odd  simi- 
litude, quirkish  reason,  acute  nonsense,  humorous 
expression,  and  startling  metaphor.  His  writings  may 
not  be  appreciated  by  those  who  delight  in  the  perish- 
ing literature  of  the  day:  the  reader  of  his  Essays  must 
consent  to  think,  as  they  abound  in  thought.  The 
delicate  texture  of  the  most  beautiful  marble  is  not 
seen,  except  by  the  eurious  eye.  He  derived  his  mate- 
rials from  the  portions  of  society  which  are  too  humble 
to  attract  public  attention;  but  every  subject  which  he 
touched,  received  importance  and  grace  from  his  genius 
and  delicate  taste.  The  old  houses,  and  streets,  and 
book-stalls  of  London  furnished  subjects  for  his  pen; 
and,  in  whatever  he  wrote,  he  shewed  the  connection 
of  his  sympathies  with  all  that  is  human.  Sweet 
Elia,  who  that  has  read  thy  charming  pages  can  ever 
forget  thee! 

Lamb  commenced  authorship  at  an  early  age,  by 
writing  and  publishing  poetry.     These  pieces  did  not 
4* 


38  CHARLES  LAMB, 

meet  with  a  favourable  reception  from  readers,  or 
reviewers;  and  when  one  of  his  sonnets  was  rejected, 
he  exclaimed,  "  *  *  *  the  age,  I  will  write  for  Anti- 
quity." He  was  conscious  of  the  spirit  that  stirred 
within  him;  but  he  had  not  yet  discovered,  as  Samson 
did,  in  what  his  strength  consisted.  When  he  wrote 
poetry — like  him  of  Gaza,  when  his  hair  was  shorn — 
lie  was  "weak,  and  like  any  other  man."  It  is  not  to 
be  denied  that  there  is  some  merit  in  his  poetry:  but, 
had  he  written  nothing  else,  his  memory  would  have 
perished  from  among  men.  His  reading  and  amuse- 
ments were  intimately  connected  with  the  drama;  and 
he  contributed  largely  in  directing  attention  to  the  old 
dramatic  authors.  He  wrote  a  Tragedy  and  a  Farce 
without  success,  as  he  did  not  possess  the  invention  to 
enable  him  to  form  the  plot  necessary  for  a  play,  or  a 
novel;  and  he  derived  no  high  pleasure  from  the  ro- 
mances of  Scott.  He  has  given  a  fine  view  of  this  part 
of  his  own  intellectual  character  in  the  Essay,  Mackery 
End.  It  was  his  fate  to  be  long  treated  with  neglect,  and 
even  derision,  as  an  author;  and  his  Essays,  which  have 
become  English  classics,  did  not  at  once  establish 
his  fame.  The  little  tale,  Rosamund  Gray,  attracted 
far  more  notice  and  commendation  than  his  poetry; 
and  its  comparative  popularity  was  sufficient  to  have 
convinced  him  that  he  should  cease  to  invoke  the 
muses.  Nature  makes  all  the  poets  and  orators. 
This  opinion  is  contained  in  that  beautiful  fiction  of 
the  Greeks,  which  represents  the  bees  as  visiting  the 
cradle  of  the  infant  Plato,  and  distilling  their  honey  on 
his  lips — thus  presaging  the  future  greatness  of  hinr 


CHARLES    LAMB,  39 

who,  on  account  of  the  elegance,  sweetness,  and 
eloquence  of  his  speech  and  writings,  was  styled  the 
Athenian  bee:  and  also  in  that  other  fiction  in  which 
the  night  before  Plato,  at  the  age  of  twenty,  became 
the  pupil  of  Socrates,  the  philosopher  dreamed  he 
had  a  young  swan  in  his  bosom,  which,  when  its 
feathers  had  grown,  spread  its  wings,  and,  singing 
with  inexpressible  sweetness,  soared  away  into  the 
highest  regions  of  the  air.  A  man  may  be  able  to 
dress  thoughts  in  lines  which  have  a  succession  of 
harmonical  sounds,  without  being  a  poet.  In  poetry, 
mediocrity  is  failure:  there  must  be  the,  Est  Dens  in 
nobis.  But  in  this  pathetic  little  story,  Lamb  is  evi- 
dently at  home.  Read  the  following  description  of 
his  heroine:  "Rosamund  Gray  was  the  most  beautiful 
young  creature  that  eyes  ever  beheld.  Her  face  had 
the  sweetest  expression — a  gentleness — a  modesty — a 
timidity — a  certain  charm — a  grace  without  a  name. 
There  was  a  melancholy  mingled  in  her  smile.  It 
was  not  the  thoughtless  levity  of  a  girl — it  was  not  the 
restrained  simper  of  premature  womanhood — it  was 
something  which  the  poet  Young  might  have  remem- 
bered when  he  composed  that  perfect  line, 
'Soft,  modest,  melancholy,  female,  fair.' 

She  was  a  mild-eyed  maid:  her  yellow  hair  fell  in 
bright  curling  clusters,  like 

'Those  hanging  locks 
Of  young  Apollo.' 

Her  voice  was  trembling  and  musical.  A  graceful 
diffidence  pleaded  for  her  whenever  she  spake — and  if 
she  said  but  little,  that  little  found  its  way  to  the  heart. 


40  CHARLES   LAMB. 

Young,  and  artless,  and  innocent,  meaning  no  harm 
and  thinking  none;  affectionate  as  a  smiling  infant — 
playful,  yet  unobtrusive  as  a  weaned  lamb — every  body 
loved  her."  With  what  delicacy  he  draws  the  veil 
over  the  fate  of  this  lonely,  unprotected  virgin:  "Rosa- 
mund Gray,  my  soul  is  exceedingly  sorrowful  for 
thee — I  loathe  to  tell  the  hateful  circumstances  of  thy 
wrongs.  Night  and  silence  were  the  only  witnesses 
of  this  young  maid's  disgrace."  The  following  apos- 
trophe to  the  moon  is  very  beautiful:  "See  how  she 
glideth,  in  maiden  honour,  through  the  clouds,  which 
divide  on  either  side  to  do  her  homage.  Beautiful 
vision!  as  1  contemplate  thee,  an  internal  harmony  is 
communicated  to  my  mind,  a  moral  brightness,  a  tacit 
analogy  of  mental  purity;  a  calm  like  that  we  ascribe 
in  fancy  to  the  favoured  inhabitants  of  thy  fairy  re- 
gions. I  marvel  aot,  O  Moon,  that  heathen  people,  in 
the  olden  times,  did  worship  thy  deity — Cynthia, 
Diana,  Hecate.  Christian  Europe  invokes  thee  not 
by  these  names  now — her  idolatry  is  of  a  blacker 
stain:  Belial  is  her  God — she  worships  Mammon. 

"Lady  of  Heaven,  thou  lendest  thy  pure  lamp  to 
light  the  way  for  the  virgin  mourner,  when  she  goes  to 
seek  the  tomb  where  her  warrior-lover  lies.  Friend 
of  the  distressed,  thou  speakest  only  peace  to  the 
lonely  sufferer,  who  walks  forth  in  the  placid  evening 
beneath  thy  gentle  light,  to  chide  at  fortune,  or  to 
complain  of  changed  friends  or  unhappy  lovers."  He 
was  only  twenty-three  years  old  when  he  wrote  this 
pathetic  and  interesting  story,  abounding  with  rational 
and  moral  sentiment. 


CHARLES   LAMB.  4£ 

Lamb  particularly  excelled  in  that  very  difficult  de- 
partment of  literature — letter-writing.  A  letter  is  a 
conversation  with  a  friend;  the  pen  being  substituted 
for  the  tongue,  as  the  mode  of  communication.  The 
same  rules  apply  to  both;  a  combination  of  good  sense 
and  wit  being  equally  essential.  "Nonsense,"  says 
one  who  excelled  in  conversation,  "talked  by  men  of 
wit  and  understanding,  in  the  hour  of  relaxation,  is  of 
the  very  finest  essence  of  conviviality,  and  a  treat  deli- 
cious to  those  who  have  the  sense  to  comprehend  it; 
but  it  implies  a  trust  in  the  company  not  always  to  be 
risked."  Gibbon  says,  in  his  memoirs,  that  he  sought 
society  for  simple  relaxation;  if  he  wished  more  seri- 
ous occupation,  he  returned  to  his  books.  With  this 
object  in  view,  he  selected  his  company,  and  the 
topics  of  conversation.  I  have  been  told  by  a  gentle- 
man who  was  personally  acquainted  with  Dr.  Thomas 
Brown,  the  celebrated  Professor  of  Moral  Philosophy 
in  the  University  of  Edinburgh,  that  he  delighted  in 
frequenting  brilliant  evening-company,  when  he  would 
lay  aside  the  metaphysician,  and  invest  nonsense  with 
the  most  captivating  graces  of  eloquence  and  wit. 
The  object  of  letter- writing  is  the  same  as  that  of  con- 
versation. An  essay  is  not  a  letter;  the  form  in  which 
it  is  written  does  not  alter  its  character.  You  do  not 
change  the  "thing"  when  you  change  its  name.  A 
dissertation  is  not  conversation;  and  hence  Coleridge 
was  not,  as  he  has  been  styled,  a  great  master  of  this 
delightful  accomplishment.  The  speaking  was  all 
done  by  himself,  and  his  friends  listened  with  great 
delight.     It  was  in  allusion  to  this,  when  Coleridge 


42  CHARLES  LAMB. 

asked  Lamb,  "Charles,  did  you  ever  hear  me  preach?" 
that  he  replied,  "I  never  heard  you  do  any  thing-  else." 
The  conversation  of  Bacon  was  remarkably  skilful 
and  graceful.  When  he  spoke,  his  hearers  were  so 
enchanted  that  they  did  not  wish  him  to  cease.  But 
he  desired  rather  to  listen  than  to  speak — "glad  to  light 
his  torch  at  any  man's  candle."  This  great  philoso- 
pher was  eminently  free  from  the  infirmity  which 
Shelley  ascribed  to  Byron,  "It  is  his  weakness  to  be 
proud."  Sir  James  Mackintosh,  who  was  a  great 
master  of  conversation,  says,  "Letters  must  not  be  on 
a  subject.  Lady  Mary  Wortley's  letters  on  her  jour- 
neys to  Constantinople,  are  an  admirable  book  of  tra- 
vels, but  they  are  not  letters.  A  meeting  to  discuss 
questions  of  science  is  not  conversation;  nor  are  papers 
written  to  another,  to  inform  or  discuss,  letters.  Con- 
versation is  relaxation,  not  business,  and  must  never 
appear  to  be  occupation;  nor  must  letters.  A  moment 
of  enthusiasm,  a  burst  of  feeling,  a  flash  of  eloquence, 
may  be  allowed;  but  the  intercourse  of  society,  either 
in  conversation  or  in  letters,  allows  no  more."  Men  of 
genius  do  not  always  excel  in  conversation.  Their 
retired  and  contemplative  habits  often  disqualify  them 
for  social  intercourse.  It  has  been  finely  said  of  them 
that,  It  is  in  the  world  they  borrow  the  sparks  of 
thought  that  fly  upwards  and  perish;  but  the  flame  of 
genius  can  only  be  lighted  in  their  own  solitary  breast. 
In  his  letters,  Lamb  holds  up  a  mirror  in  which  we 
see  himself.  We  discover  the  workings  of  his  mind 
and  heart:  his  quaint  conceits  expressed  in  clear  and 
nervous  English — genuine  English:  his  wit,  his  plea* 


CHARLES  LAMB.  43 

santry,  and  all  his  warm  affections.  The  letters  of 
Cowley — the  melancholy  poet,  as  he  styles  himself — 
were  suppressed  by  Sprat  and  Clifford,  because,  as 
Bishop  Sprat  remarks,  "In  this  kind  of  prose  Mr. 
Cowley  was  excellent.  They  had  a  domestical  plain- 
ness, and  a  peculiar  kind  of  familiarity.  In  letters, 
the  souls  of  men  should  appear  undressed;  and  in 
that  negligent  habit,  they  may  be  fit  to  be  seen  by  one 
or  two  in  a  chamber,  but  not  to  go  abroad  into  the 
streets."  That  "domestical  plainness,"  and  "peculiar 
kind  of  familiarity"  which  give  letters  all  their  value, 
are  assigned  as  the  cause  for  their  suppression!  Wo- 
men excel  in  letter-writing  because,  as  has  been  finely 
remarked,  "The  extent  to  which  their  intellectual 
powers  dwell  in,  and  are  developed  by  the  affections, 
constitutes  their  characteristic  weakness  and  character- 
istic strength."  Cowper  and  Lamb  were  remarkable 
for  affectionate  regard  for  their  friends,  and  their  inte- 
rest in  all  that  belongs  to  humanity;  and  hence  they 
are  among  the  best  letter- writers  in  the  English  lan- 
guage. Pope  wrote  better  poetry  than  letters.  It  has 
been  asserted  that  they  were  written  for  publica- 
tion: and  letters  thus  prepared,  must  always  be  defi- 
cient in  that  natural  grace,  and  careless  ease  which 
constitute  their  chief  excellence.  They  may  be  fine 
compositions;  but  will  lose  the  character  of  letters. 
Could  any  man  converse  with  ease  and  grace,  if  a 
reporter  were  present,  taking  down  his  remarks?  The 
published  report  would  be  a  lecture,  or  dissertation — 
not  conversation.  Perhaps  Dr.  Johnson  knew  that 
Boswell  kept  a  record  of  his   observations.     Horace 


44  CHARLES  LAMB. 

Walpole  was,  from  his  position  and  amusing  talents, 
eminently  qualified  to  write  charming  letters;  but  they 
are  the  letters  of  a  courtier.  His  education,  habits, 
and  associations,  enabled  him  to  describe  the  court, 
fashion,  politics,  belles-lettres,  and  nonsense  of  the 
times  of  the  second  and  third  George:  but  if  he  give 
a  living  picture  of  character  and  manners,  it  is  in  con- 
nection with  the  vices  and  follies  of  the  period.  They 
are  such  letters  as  we  would  expect  from  one  who  has 
been  described  as  an  "agreeable  letter- writer,  dandy- 
historian,  and  heartless  man."  He  Was  not  a  man  of 
genius,  but  is  unrivalled  as  a  writer  of  letters.  The 
letters  of  Cowper  and  Lamb  surround  us  with  an 
atmosphere  of  affection,  while  they  present  to  us  the 
loving  intercourse  of  friends.  The  letters  of  Walpole 
shew  us  he  was  not  free  from  many  of  the  weaknesses 
and  follies  of  the  time  and  society  in  which  he  lived. 
The  letters  of  Lamb  and  Cowper  make  us  better, 
more  wise,  and  more  happy.  We  cannot  expect  such 
effects  from  the  letters  of  Walpole,  whose  predominant 
traits  of  character  were  avarice  and  vanity:  who,  after 
being  convinced  he  could  never  acquire  reputation, 
beyond  mediocrity,  as  an  author,  affected  a  contempt 
for  authorship.  He  was  a  "heartless  and  volatile  man 
of  literature  and  rank:"  and  has  been  styled,  "That 
thing  of  silk." 

The  Essays  of  Ella,  and  his  Criticisms,  are  the  most 
popular  of  the  writings  of  Lamb;  and  although,  in  a 
moment  of  irritation,  he  said  he  would  write  for  An- 
tiquity, these  Essays  will  convey  his  name  to  posterity. 
The  first— The  South  Sea  House — was  published  in 


CHARLES  LAMB,  45 

the  London  Magazine,  and  he  adopted  the  signature, 
Elia;  the  sobriquet  of  a  gay,  light-hearted  Jewish 
foreigner  who  had  been  a  clerk  in  that  House;  but 
whose  real  name  was  Lomb.  He  continued  to  use 
this  signature  to  various  essays  during  the  remaining 
fourteen  years  of  his  life,  and  the  sobriquet  of  the  old 
clerk  of  the  South-Sea  House  has  become  that  of 
Charles  Lamb.  These  Essays  "are  not  merely,  ex- 
clusively English,  but  to  wnish— belonging  to  London 
— Hogarth's,  and  Handel's,  and  Pope's  London — the 
London  of  coffee-houses  and  theatres,  of  the  South- 
Sea  House,  and  the  book-stalls  of  Holbom — the  same 
city  as  that  which  held  Johnson  in  such  powerful 
thrall.  They  are,  in  short,  whimsically,  breathingly, 
kindly  individual."  The  knowledge,  wit,  and  tender 
pathos  of  Elia  place  him  in  the  same  rank,  as  an  es- 
sayist, with  Montaigne,  Addison,  and  Steele.  Reader, 
the  next  time  you  leave  home  to  enjoy  a  Summer  ex- 
cursion, take  with  you  the  Essays  of  Montaigne  and 
Lamb,  and  they  will  enable  you  to  pass  many  pleasant 
hours.  His  descriptive  powers  are  displayed  in  the 
following  view  of  the  home  of  the  very  poor  man: 
"That  face,  ground  by  want,  in  which  every  cheerful, 
every  conversable  lineament  has  been  long  effaced  by 
misery — is  that  a  face  to  stay  at  home  with?  Is  it  more 
a  woman,  or  a  wild  cat?  Alas!  it  is  the  face  of  the 
wife  of  his  youth  that  once  smiled  upon  him.  It  can 
smile  no  longer.  What  comforts  can  it  share,  what 
burdens  can  it  lighten?  Oh,  'tis  a  fine  thing  to  talk  of 
the  humble  meal  shared  together!  But  what  if  there 
be  no  bread  in  the  cupboard?  The  innocent  prattle  of 
5 


46  CHARLES  LAMB. 

his  children  takes  out  the  sting  of  a  man's  poverty, 
But  the  children  of  the  very  poor  do  not  prattle.  It 
is  none  of  the  least  frightful  features  in  that  condition, 
that  there  is  no  childishness  in  its  dwellings.  Poor 
people,  said  a  sensible  old  nurse  to  us  once,  do  not 
bring  up  their  children;  they  drag  them  up.  The  little 
careless  darling  of  the  wealthier  nursery,  in  their  hovel 
is  transformed  betimes  into  a  premature — reflecting  per- 
son. No  one  has  time  to  dandle  it;  no  one  thinks  it 
worth  while  to  coax  it,  to  soothe  it,  to  toss  it  up  and 
down,  to  humour  it.  There  is  none  to  kiss  away  its 
tears.  If  it  cries,  it  can  only  be  beaten.  It  has  been 
prettily  said  that  a  babe  is  fed  with  milk  and  praise. 
But  the  aliment  of  this  poor  babe  was  thin,  unnourish- 
ing;  the  return  to  its  little  baby  tricks  and  efforts  to  en- 
gage attention,  bitter,  ceaseless  objurgation.  It  never 
had  a  toy,  or  knew  what  a  coral  meant.  It  grew  up 
without  the  lullaby  of  nurses;  it  was  a  stranger  to 
the  patient  fondle,  the  hushing  caress,  the  attracting 
novelty,  the  costlier  play-thing,  or  the  cheaper  off-hand 
contrivance  to  divert  the  child;  the  prattled  nonsense — 
best  sense  to  it — the  wise  impertinences,  the  apt  story 
interposed  that  puts  a  stop  to  present  sufferings,  and 
awakens  the  passions  of  young  wonder.  It  was  never 
sung  to — no  one  ever  told  it  a  tale  of  the  nursery. 
It  was  dragged  up,  to  live  or  to  die,  as  it  happened.  It 
had  no  young  dreams.  It  broke  at  once  into  the  iron 
realities  of  life.  It  is  never  its  parent's  mirth;  his  di- 
version, his  solace;  it  never  makes  him  young  again 
with  recalling  his  young  times.  The  child  of  the 
very  poor  has  no  young  times.     It  has  come  to  be  a 


CHARLES  LAMB.  47 

man,  or  a  woman,  before  it  was  a  child.  It  has  learned 
to  go  to  market;  it  chaffers,  it  haggles,  it  envies,  it  mur- 
murs: it  is  knowing,  acute,  sharpened;  it  never  prattles. 
Had  we  not  reason  to  say,  that  the  home  of  the  very- 
poor  is  no  home?"  This  is  intellectual  portrait-paint- 
ing. Why,  Hogarth's  Progresses  are  not  presented  to 
the  eye  in  characters  more  impressive,  than  Lamb  here 
presents  to  the  mind  the  child  of  the  veiy  poor  man. 
As  a  critic,  Lamb  is  almost  without  a  rival  in  English 
literature.  It  has  been  said  of  him  that,  in  criticism, 
he  was  "a  discoverer  like  Vasco  Nunez  or  Magellan." 
Read  his  criticism,  On  the  Tragedies  of  Shakspeare; 
in  which  he  explains  the  causes  of  the  different  effects 
produced  by  a  play  when  read,  and  by  the  same  play 
when  acted;  and  sketches  the  character  of  Hamlet — of 
Richard — -of  Lear — of  Othello.  Can  you  find,  in  any 
author,  a  nobler  criticism— one  that  more  irresistably 
proves  the  mind  of  a  master?  Let  us  select  an  extract: 
"The  truth  is,  the  characters  of  Shakspeare  are  so 
much  the  objects  of  meditation,  rather  than  of  interest, 
or  curiosity  as  to  their  actions,  that  while  we  are  read- 
ing any  of  his  great  criminal  characters — Macbeth, 
Richard,  even  lago— we  think  not  so  much  of  the 
crimes  which  they  commit,  as  of  the  ambition,  the 
aspiring  spirit,  the  intellectual  activity,  which  prompts 
them  to  overleap  these  moral  fences.  So  little,  com- 
paratively, do  the  actions  of  such  characters  in  Shak- 
speare affect  us,  that  while  the  impulses,  the  inner 
mind  in  all  its  perverted  greatness,  solely  seems  real, 
and  is  exclusively  attended  to,  the  crime  is,  in  com- 
parison, nothing.     But  when  we  see  those  things  repre- 


48  CHARLES  LAMB. 

sented,  the  acts  which  they  do  are,  comparatively, 
everything-;  their  impulses  nothing.  The  state  of 
sublime  emotion  into  which  we  are  elevated  by  those 
images  of  night  and  horror  which  Macbeth  is  made  to 
utter,  that  solemn  prelude  with  which  he  entertains  the 
time  till  the  bell  shall  strike  which  is  to  call  him  to 
murder  Duncan — when  we  no  longer  read  it  in  a  book, 
when  we  have  given  up  that  vantage  ground  of  ab- 
straction which  reading  possesses  over  seeing,  and 
come  to  see  a  man  in  his  bodily  shape  before  our  eyes, 
actually  preparing  to  commit  a  murder,  if  the  acting 
be  true  and  impressive — as  I  have  witnessed  in  Mr. 
K's  performance  of  that  part — the  painful  anxiety 
about  the  act,  the  natural  longing  to  prevent  it  while 
it  seems  yet  unperpetrated,  the  too  close-pressing  sem- 
blance of  reality,  give  a  pain  and  an  uneasiness  which 
totally  destroy  all  the  delight  which  the  words  in  the 
book  convey,  where  the  deed  doing  never  presses  upon 
us  with  the  painful  sense  of  presence.  It  rather  seems 
to  belong  to  history — to  something  past  and  inevitable, 
if  it  has  anything  at  all  to  do  with  time.  The  sublime 
images,  the  poetiy  alone,  is  that  which  is  present  to 
our  minds  in  the  reading. 

"So  to  see  Lear  acted — to  see  an  old  man  tottering 
about  the  stage  with  a  walking  stick,  turned  out  of 
doors  by  his  daughters  in  a  rainy  night,  has  nothing  in 
it  but  what  is  painful  and  disgusting.  We  want  to 
take  him  into  shelter  and  relieve  him.  That  is  all 
the  feeling  which  the  acting  of  Lear  ever  produced  in 
me.  But  the  Lear  of  Shakspeare  cannot  be  acted. 
The  contemptible  machinery  by  which   they  mimic 


CHARLES    LAMB.  49 

the  storm  which  he  goes  out  in,  is  not  more  inadequate 
to  represent  the  horrors  of  the  real  elements,  than  any 
actor  can  be  to  represent  Lear:  they  might  more  easily 
propose  to  personate  the  Satan  of  Milton  upon  the 
stage,  or  one  of  Michael  Angelo's  terrible  figures.  The 
greatness  of  Lear  is  not  in  corporeal  dimension,  but  in 
intellectual:  the  explosions  of  his  passion  are  terrible 
as  a  volcano:  they  are  storms  turning  up,  and  disclosing 
to  the  bottom  that  sea,  his  mind,  with  all  its  vast 
riches.  It  is  his  mind  which  is  laid  bare.  This  case 
of  flesh  and  blood  seems  too  insignificant  to  be 
thought  on,  even  as  he  himself  neglects  it.  On  the 
stage  we  see  nothing  but  corporeal  infirmities  and 
weakness,  the  impotence  of  rage.  While  we  read  it, 
we  see  not  Lear,  but  we  are  Lear:  we  are  in  his  mind; 
we  are  sustained  by  a  grandeur  which  baffles  the  ma- 
lice of  daughters  and  storms.  In  the  aberrations  of 
his  reason  we  discover  a  mighty,  irregular  power  of 
reasoning,  immethodized  from  the  ordinary  purposes 
of  life,  but  exerting  its  powers,  as  the  wind  blows 
where  it  listeth,  at  will  upon  the  corruptions  and 
abuses  of  mankind.  What  have  looks  or  tones  to  do 
with  that  sublime  identification  of  his  age  with  that  of 
the  heavens  themselves,  when,  in  his  reproaches  to 
them  for  conniving  at  the  injustice  of  his  children,  he 
reminds  them  that  'they  themselves  are  old.'  What 
gesture  shall  we  appropriate  to  this?  What  has  the 
voice,  or  the  eye  to  do  with  such  things?  But  the  play 
is  beyond  all  art:  Lear  is  essentially  impossible  to  be 
represented  upon  the  stage." 

The  private  character  of  Lamb,  with  one  melan* 

5# 


50  CHARLES  LAMB. 

choly  exception,  was  without  reproach.  His  purity  of 
character  may  be  inferred  from  his  writings.  It  has 
been  said  that,  "Licentious  writers  may  be  very  chaste 
persons:  the  imagination  may  be  a  volcano,  while  the 
heart  is  an  Alp  of  ice."  This  may  be  true;  but  the 
converse  would  not  necessarily  follow,  that  licentious 
persons  may  be  veiy  chaste  writers.  If  the  imagina- 
tion do  not  affect  the  passions,  the  criminal  indul- 
gence of  the  passions  will  affect  the  imagination:  •  but 
the  history  of  literature  may  furnish  exceptions  to  the 
general  rule.  Lamb  was  not  more  remarkable  for  his 
genius,  than  for  a  kind,  amiable,  and  gentle  nature. 
Southey  said,  "Others  might  possess  the  milk  of  human 
kindness,  but  Charles  Lamb  had  monopolized  the 
cream."  In  his  early  life  he  thus  wrote  to  a  friend: 
"I  am  wedded,  Coleridge,  to  the  fortunes  of  my  sister, 
and  my  poor  old  father.  Oh!  my  friend,  I  think,  some- 
times, could  I  recall  the  days  that  are  past,  which 
among  them  should  I  choose?  Not  those  'merrier  days,' 
not  the  'pleasant  days  of  hope,'  not  'those  wanderings 
with  a  fair-hair'd  maid,'  which  I  have  so  often,  and  so 
feelingly  regretted;  but  the  days,  Coleridge,  of  a 
mother's  fondness  for  her  schoolboy.  What  would  I 
not  give  to  call  her  back  to  earth  for  one  day,  that,  on 
my  knees,  I  might  ask  her  pardon  for  all  those  little 
asperities  of  temper,  which,  from  time  to  time,  have 
given  her  gentle  spirit  pain?"  His  father  died  when  he 
was  twenty-one;  and  from  that  time  he  devoted  his 
whole  life  to  his  sister,*  who  was  ten  years  older  than 

'Lamb  did  not  marry;  and  the  following  great  authors  also  de- 
cided for  celibacy;  Michael  Angelo,  Boyle,  Peiresc,  Newton,  Locke, 


CHARLES   LAMB,  51 

himself.  She  had  been  a  mother  to  him  when  he 
was  a  delicate  and  helpless  child;  when  he  arrived  at 
man's  estate,  he  became  the  protector  of  her  who  had 
been  to  him  in  the  place  of  a  mother.  She  is  the 
Bridget  Elia  of  his  Essays — a  kind-hearted  and  gentle 
creature — admirably  suited  to  beguile  the  loneliness, 
and  soothe  the  sorrows  of  such  a  brother;  and  their 

Bayle,  Shenstone,  Leibnitz,  Hobbes,  Voltaire,  Adam  Smith,  Pope., 
Swift,  Thomson,  Akenside,  Arbuthnot,  Hume,  Gibbon,  Cowper, 
Goldsmith,  Gray.  It  would  not  be  difficult  to  extend  the  list. 
Michael  Angelo  replied  to  one  who  asked  him  why  he  preferred 
celibacy:  "I  have  espoused  my  art,  and  it  occasions  me  sufficient 
domestic  cares,  for  my  works  shall  be  my  children."  To  this  deci- 
sion of  the  great  artist,  we  may  oppose  the  following  beautiful  senti- 
ment: "A  wife  who  re-animates  the  drooping  genius  of  her  husband. 
and  a  mother  who  is  inspired  by  the  ambition  of  beholding  her  sons 
eminent,  is  she  not  the  real  being  whom  the  ancients  personified  in 
their  Muse?" 

The  following  remarkable  array  of  facts,  in  relation  to  the  family 
history  of  men  eminently  distinguished  for  genius,  is  taken  from  a 
late  number  of  the  London  Quarterly: 

"We  are  not  going  to  speculate  about  the  causes  of  the  fact — but 
a  fact  it  is — that  men  distinguished  for  extraordinary  intellectual 
power,  of  any  sort,  very  rarely  leave  more  than  a  very  brief  line  of 
progeny  behind  them.  Men  of  genius  have  scarcely  ever  done  so — 
men  of  imaginative  genius,  we  might  say,  almost  never.  With  the 
one  exception  of  the  noble  Surrey,  we  cannot,  at  this  moment,  point 
out  a  representative  in  the  male  line,  even  so  far  down  as  in  the 
third  generation,  of  any  English  Poet;  and  we  believe  the  case  is 
the  same  in  France.  The  blood  of  beings  of  that  order  can  seldom 
be  traced  far  down,  even  in  the  female  line.  With  the  exception  of 
Surrey  and  Spenser,  we  are  not  aware  of  any  great  English  author. 
of  at  all  remote  date,  from  whose  body  any  living  person  claims  to 
be  descended.  There  is  no  other  real  English  poet,  prior  to  the 
middle  of  the  eighteenth  century,  and  we  believe  no  great  author  of 
any  sort,  except  Clarendon  and  Shaftsbury,  of  whose  blood  we  have 
any  inheritance  amongst  us.    Chaucer's  only  son  died  childless. 


52  CHARLES   LAMB. 

life-long  association  of  undiminished,  ever-increasing 
affection,  from  his  infancy  to  three-score  years,  was 
most  beautiful.  In  one  of  his  essays  he  says  of  her, 
"We  house  together,  old  bachelor  and  maid,  in  a  sort 
of  double  singleness;  with  such  tolerable  comfort,  upon 
the  whole,  that  I,  for  one,  find  in  myself  no  sort  of 
disposition  to  go  out  upon  the  mountains,  with  the 
rash  king's  offspring,  to  bewail  my  celibacy."  He 
once  expressed  the  desire  that  he  could  throw  into 
a  heap  the  remainder  of  their  joint  existences,  that 
they  might  share  them  in  equal  division.  The  most 
affectionate  and  earnest  watchings  on  her  part,  were 
repaid  by  deference  and  gratitude.  If  she  were  un- 
usually silent,  or  languid  in  company,  he  would  ask: 

Shakspeare's  line  expired  in  his  daughter's  only  daughter.  None 
of  the  other  dramatists  of  that  age  left  any  progeny:  nor  Raleigh, 
nor  Bacon,  nor  Cowley,  nor  Butler.  The  grand-daughter  of  Milton 
was  the  last  of  his  blood.  Neither  Bolingbroke,  nor  Addison,*  nor 
Warburton,  nor  Johnson,  nor  Burke,  transmitted  their  blood.  M. 
Renourd's  last  argument  against  a  perpetuity  in  literary  property  is, 
that  it  would  be  founding  another  noblesse.  Neither  jealous  aristo- 
cracy, nor  envious  jacobinism  need  be  under  much  alarm.  When  a 
human  race  has  produced  its  'bright  consummate  flower'  in  this 
kind,  it  'seems  commonly  to  be  near  its  end.'  The  theory  is  illus- 
trated in  our  own  day.  The  two  greatest  names  in  science  and 
literature  of  our  time  were  Davy  and  Sir  Walter  Scott.  The  first 
died  childless.  Sir  Walter  left  four  children,  of  whom  three  are 
dead,  only  one  of  them  (Mrs.  Lockhart)  leaving  issue,  and  the 
fourth,  (his  eldest  son,)  though  living,  and  long  married,  has  no 
issue.     These  are  curious  facts." 

*This  is  an  error.  Addison  had  a  daughter,  whose  mother  was 
Countess  of  Warwick;  who  was  taught  contempt  for  authors,  and  was 
proud  of  her  alliance,  through  her  mother,  with  nobility — blushing  to 
acknowledge  the  name  of  her  father,  more  illustrious  than  that  of  all 
the  Warwicks  that  ever  lived. 


CHARLES   LAMB.  53 

Mary,  does  your  head  ache?  Don't  you  feel  unwell? 
and  it  was  not  easy  to  quiet  his  apprehensions.  The 
world  has  never  produced  an  union — unselfish,  deep, 
and  long-continued — between  a  brother  and  sister, 
more  attractive  from  its  moral  beauty. 

I  know  a  man  to  whom  these  scenes  of  fraternal 
affection  recall  former  days,  when  he  indulged  ardent 
wishes  that  he  had  had  a  sister:  one  whom  he  might 
have  cherished,  and  guided,  and  loved.  He  once  had 
a  sister,  a  few  years  his  junior — himself  too  young  to 
recollect  her.  He  has  heard  her  little  prattle  and  ways 
described,  giving  early  promise  of  ardent  feeling,  and 
woman's  nature.  When  two  years  old,  she  was  said 
to  be  most  interesting  and  lovely.  And  then,  this 
sweet  little  flower,  which  had  just  begun  to  expand 
her  leaves,  fragrant  with  the  drops  of  morning  dew,  to 
the  first  rays  of  the  morning  sun,  calmly  and  gently 
laid  her  head  on  its  natural  resting-place — a  mother's 
bosom — and  looked,  and  smiled,  and  died.  Died? 
Life  and  immortality  are  brought  to  light  by  the 
Gospel.  She  was  only  transplanted  from  this  scene  of 
tumult,  and  sorrows,  and  storms,  to  a  more  genial 
clime  where  she  will  flourish  in  immortal  bloom:  and 
he  may  adopt  the  language  employed  by  David,  when 
told  his  child  was  dead,  I  shall  go  to  her,  but  she  shall 
not  return  to  me. 

So  kind  was  the  nature  of  Lamb — so  constant  his 
friendships — that  but  one  instance  is  recorded  in  which 
he  assumed  a  hostile  position.  Several  articles  in  the 
Quarterly  Review,  which  was  conducted  by  Southey, 
had  commented,  unjustly,  on  his  theological  creed  and 


54  CHARLES  LAMB. 

his  single  frailty.  I  have  read  the  "Letter  of  Elia  to 
Robert  Southey,  Esq."  with  admiration  that  a  man, 
who  was  able  to  defend  himself  with  such  manliness 
of  spirit  and  keenness  of  sarcasm,  should  not,  by  the 
consciousness  of  his  powers,  have  been  oftener  tempted 
into  controversy.  But  his  gentle  nature  enabled  him  to 
overcome  the  temptation.  Mutual  explanations  soon 
restored  the  confidence  of  these  long-attached  friends. 
His  acquaintance  with  Coleridge  commenced  in  his 
youth,  and  he  remained  his  "fifty-years-old  friend 
without  a  division."  In  one  of  his  essays,  he  thus  apos- 
trophizes him:  "Come  back  into  memory,  like  as  thou 
wert  in  the  day-spring  of  thy  fancies,  with  hope  like 
a  fiery  column  before  thee — the  dark  pillar  not  yet 
turned — Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge,  Logician,  Meta- 
physician, Bard!"  He  thus  apostrophizes  another 
friend:  "Magnificent  were  thy  capricios  on  this  globe 
of  earth,  Robert  William  Elliston!  for  as  yet  we  know 
not  thy  new  name  in  heaven."*  Lamb  was  a  fine 
exemplification  of  the  beautiful  sentiment  of  Sterne, 
All  hail,  you  small  sweet  courtesies  of  life,  for  pleasant 
do  you  make  the  way  of  it.  Like  grace  and  beauty, 
that  attract  us  at  first  sight,  'tis  you  that  open  the  door 
and  let  the  stranger  in. 

When  speaking  of  the  personal  character  of  Lamb, 
I  remarked  that,  with  one  exception,  it  was  without 
reproach.     He  had  a  delicate  frame,  a  nervous  tempe- 
rament, was  fond  of  study  and  society,  with 
"Affections  warm  as  sunshine,  free  as  air;" 

*  I  find  the  same  beautiful  thought  used  by  Dr.  Young  in  the  first 
line  of  Night  Sixth:  "She— for  I  know  not  yet  her  name  in  heaven." 


CHARLES   LAMB.  55 

and,  when  exhausted  by  labour,  or  partaking  of  the 
enjoyment  of  convivial  circles,  he  too  often  indulged 
in  artificial  excitement.  But  his  memory  should  be 
vindicated  from  the  charge  that  his  Essay,  The  Con- 
fessions of  a  Drunkard,  was  designed  as  a  picture  of 
his  own  sad  condition  at  the  time  it  was  written.  It  is 
a  representation  of  the  tendency  of  convivial  habits, 
drawn  with  graphic  power;  and  may  be  read  with 
advantage  by  those  who  find  themselves  approaching 
the  verge  of  that  dreadful  precipice.  The  Essay  was 
written  fourteen  years  before  his  death;  and  if  he  had 
then  been  so  far  prostrated  by  intemperance,  how 
could  he,  during  this  period,  have  produced  the  works 
that  have  made  Elia  immortal  in  English  literature? 
Yet  it  cannot  be  denied  that  his  otherwise  fair  fame 
was,  in  a  measure,  obscured — especially  during  the  last 
years  of  his  life — by  this  deplorable  frailty.  His  letter 
of  self- condemning  apology  to  Mr.  Carey,  at  whose 
table  he  had  indulged  imprudently;  and  his  poignant 
reflections  on  the  pain  he  gave  his  sister  by  such  devi- 
ations, combine,  with  other  circumstances,  to  attest  the 
melancholy  fact.  He  had  nobly  struggled  against 
another  bad  habit,  and  immortalized  his  victory  by,  A 
Farewell  to  Tobacco;  but  this  tyrant,  beneath  whose 
power  many  strong  men  have  fallen,  held  him  in  a 
grasp  so  firm,  that  he  has  become  another  proof  of  the 
infirmities  of  genius.  A  man,  who  is  insensibly  form- 
ing destructive  habits,  should  read  the  letters  of  Lamb 
on  the  progress  and  effects  of  intemperance;  and  those 
of  Coleridge  on  his  subjugation  by  opium.  Gin  did 
not  improve  the  verses  of  Byron;  nor  wine  the  essays 


56  CHARLES  LAMB. 

of  Elia;  nor  opium  the  poetry  of  Coleridge.  Such 
are  not  intellectual  pleasures;  and  all  they  can  ever 
effect  is  thus  finely  stated  by  Lamb:  "It  is  a  fearful 
truth,  that  the  intellectual  faculties,  by  repeated  acts  of 
intemperance,  may  be  driven  from  their  orderly  sphere 
of  action,  their  clear  day-light  ministries,  until  they 
shall  be  brought  at  last  to  depend,  for  the  faint  mani- 
festation of  their  departing  energies,  upon  the  return- 
ing periods  of  the  fatal  madness  to  which  they  owe 
their  devastation." 

It  was  unfortunate  for  Lamb  that,  ten  years  before 
his  death,  he  was  released  from  his  duties  at  the  India 
House,  where  he  had  been  employed  in  arduous 
labour  for  thirty-five  years.  He  once  sportively  re- 
marked that  the  most  delightful  of  all  employments 
was  doing  nothing.  After  his  emancipation  from  the 
service  of  the  Company,  he  said,  "No  work  is  worse 
than  overwork,"  and  complained  that,  "When  all  is 
holiday,  I  have  no  holidays."  During  his  confinement 
to  the  desk,  he  sighed  for  freedom  to  wander  over  fields 
and  woods,  and  luxuriate  in  the  beauties  of  nature: 
after  his  discharge,  and  retirement  to  the  country,  he 
longed  for  crowded  streets  and  the  busy  haunts  of 
men.  Why  should  man  wish  to  be  discharged  from 
labour?  It  is  the  law  of  his  nature,  "In  the  sweat  of 
thy  face  shalt  thou  eat  bread;"  equally  essential  to  his 
happiness  and  usefulness — like  the  mass  of  the  great 
waters,  whose  purity  is  preserved  by  their  constant 
motion.  If  Lamb  had  not  been  a  devotee  to  litera- 
ture while  employed  in  the  India  House,  he  might 
have  found   occupation   in    that,  when   his    labours 


CHARLES  LAMB.  57 

ceased.  But  his  labours,  and  the  pursuit  of  literature 
had  co-existed  for  thirty  years,  and  the  one  had  palled 
when  the  other  had  closed.  He  had  none  of  the 
tender  charities  of  husband  and  father  on  which  to 
repose:  charities  which,  down  to  the  close  of  life's 
long  pilgrimage,  are  a  never  failing  fountain  of  emo- 
tions— ever  fresh,  and  ever  young.  A  century  before 
the  time  of  Lamb,  the  Earl  of  Peterborough  said:  "If 
I  were  a  man  of  many  plums,  and  a  good  heathen,  I 
would  dedicate  a  temple  to  laziness."  This  is  a  false 
view  of  human  happiness.  A  life  of  idleness  never 
can  be,  under  the  most  favourable  circumstances,  a  life 
of  true  enjoyment.  The  pleasure  of  the  sportsman 
consists  in  the  pursuit,  not  in  the  possession,  of  the 
game.  "No  human  being,  however  exalted  his  rank 
and  fortune,  however  enlarged  and  cultivated  his  un- 
derstanding, can  be  long  happy  without  a  pursuit. 
Life  is  a  ladder  on  which  we  climb  from  hope  to  hope, 
and  by  expectation  strive  to  ascend  to  enjoyments;  but 
he  who  fancies  he  has  reached  his  highest  hope  is 
miserable  indeed;  or  who  enjoys  the  utmost  of  his 
wishes;  for  many,  who  have  been  most  successful  in 
their  respective  undertakings,  have  given  the  gloomiest 
description  of  the  emptiness  of  human  pleasures.  The 
pursuit  alone  can  yield  true  happiness:  and  the  most 
trifling  object  that  has  power  to  fascinate  the  hopes  of 
man,  is  worthy  of  his  attention." 

The  life  of  every  man  contains  its  moral;  and,  in 
that  view,  belongs  to  posterity.  The  lessons  of  virtue 
which  are  thus  taught,  make  it  proper  to  lift  the  cur- 
tain on  acts  which,  otherwise,  had  better  lie  buried  in 


58  CHARLES   LAMB. 

our  graves.  The  genius  and  the  gentle  nature  of 
Charles  Lamb  excite  our  admiration  and  our  love;  but, 
even  weeping  virtue  is  not  allowed  to  interpose  the 
veil  which  would  conceal  his  frailty  from  our  view. 


HENRY  MARTYN— JOHN  S.  NEWBOLD. 

The  character  of  Henry  Martyn  is  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  presented  to  us  in  Christian  biography. 
Refined  in  taste,  gentle  and  affectionate  in  disposition, 
accomplished  in  attainments,  brilliant  in  genius,  pure 
in  life,  ardent  and  devoted  in  piety,  he  was  justly 
styled  by  his  friends,  a  bright  and  lovely  jewel.  His 
conversion  took  place  when  he  was  a  student  at 
Cambridge;  and  the  reader  of  his  memoirs  is  forcibly 
impressed  by  the  contrast  between  the  degree  of  his 
religious  experience  at  that  time,  and  the  unreserved 
devotedness  of  his  subsequent  life.  The  fruit  was  be- 
yond the  promise  of  the  early  blossomings.  The  child, 
at  birth,  scarcely  gave  evidence  of  life:  but,  when  he 
attained  his  manhood,  he  filled  England,  and  Persia, 
and  India  with  his  fame;  and,  having  relinquished  all 
the  bright  and  alluring  prospects  of  worldly  advance- 
ment, he  lived  daily  on  the  bread  that  was  sent  down 
from  heaven.  What  was  the  cause  of  this  disparity 
between  his  early3  and  subsequent  religious  experience? 
He  was  a  candidate  for  the  highest  honours  of  his 
College;  and  he  ascribed  the  low  state  of  his  piety,  at 
that  period,  to  the  eagerness  and  intenseness  with 
which  he  pursued  that  object.     The  view  he  took  of 


60  HENRY  MARTYN. 

the  subject  was,  I  have  no  doubt,  correct.     Knowledge 
is  useful;  and  its  attainment  is  an  object  of  legitimate 
pursuit  for  the  Christian,  because  its  possession  enlarges 
his  sphere  of  action.     But,  I  contend  that  the  ardent 
pursuit  of  academical  honours  has  a  direct  and  invaria- 
ble tendency  to  repress  and  extinguish  religious  emo- 
tions; and  I  do  not  believe  any  man  ever  advanced  in 
true  Christian  character  while  engaged  in  the  contest;  or 
even,  retained  the  piety  with  which  it  was  commenced. 
And  I  make  this  broad  assertion,  because  I  believe  no 
man  ever  pursued  that  particular  course  of  study,  in- 
dispensably necessary  to  obtain  the  highest  collegiate 
honours,  without  having  had  his  mind  more  occupied 
with  his  own  advancement,  than  with  a  desire  to  promote 
the  glory  of  his  Maker.     In  other  words,  he  makes 
the  honours  his  idol,  which  occupies,  in  his  affections, 
the  supremacy  that  belongs  to  the  Giver  of  all  good. 
He  might,  under  other  circumstances,  pursue  his  studies 
as  intensely,  and  without  injurious  consequences,  be- 
cause pride  and  self-exaltation  would  not  be  cherished. 
But,  within   the   walls   of  a  College — that   world   in 
miniature — contests  for  pre-eminence  manifest  the  same 
love  of  glory  that  is  displayed  by  the  statesman  in  the 
halls  of  legislation,  or  by  the  soldier  on  bloody  fields. 
Ambition  has  been  called  the  last  infirmity  of  noble 
minds.     Christianity  finds  it  in  the  heart  of  its  votary, 
and  does  not   extinguish,  but   sanctifies,  this  natural 
emotion.     She  teaches,  Blessed   are  the  poor  in  spirit; 
and  that  no  man,  who  entertains  an  exalted  opinion  of 
himself,  can  hold  high  communion  with  heaven.     If 
there  be  any  truth  in  Christianity,  her  tendency  is  to 


HENRY  MARTYN.  61 

teach  man  humility,  that  God  may  be  all  in  all.  I 
wish  to  be  understood.  I  am  not  opposing  the  acquisi- 
tion of  knowledge,  but  inculcating  purity  of  motive. 
Circumstances,  to  which  I  shall  not  make  further 
reference,  have  called  my  attention  to  the  consideration 
of  this  subject.  Brainerd,  when  at  Yale  College,  made 
this  note  in  his  diary:  "I  grew  more  cold  and  dull  in 
religion  by  means  of  my  old  temptation,  viz.  ambition 
in  my  studies."  Martyn  obtained  the  honours  for 
which  he  had  so  intensely  toiled,  and  made  this  record: 
"I  obtained  my  highest  wishes,  but  was  surprised  to 
find  that  I  had  grasped  a  shadow."  Such  is  the  brief 
and  true  history  of  earthly  glory.  Expectations  of 
happiness,  based  on  any  object  beneath  the  sun,  are 
built  too  low.  "If  any  man  thirst,  let  him  come  unto 
me  and  drink." 

Brilliancy  of  genius,  and  extensive  acquirements, 
would  have  secured  to  Henry  Martyn  position  and 
competence  in  secular  pursuits.  His  original  design 
was  to  study  law;  chiefly,  as  he  confesses,  "Because  I 
could  not  consent  to  be  poor  for  Christ's  sake."  But 
his  piety  increased  after  he  had  completed  his  collegiate 
studies;  and  he  determined  to  devote  himself  to  the 
cause  of  his  Master.  Had  he  chosen  to  remain  in 
England,  his  qualifications  and  high  reputation  would 
have  placed  him  in  a  distinguished  position  in  the 
Established  Church:  but,  having  determined  to  give 
up  much  for  the  holiest  of  causes,  it  was  comparatively 
^asy,  for  a  noble  mind  like  his,  to  resolve  to  give  up  all, 
He  selected  Asia  as  the  field  for  his  missionary  labours; 
and  effected  more  for  the  great  cause  of  human  happi- 
6* 


62  HENRY  MART YN. 

ness,  b}r  giving  this  direction  to  his  efforts,  than  could 
have  been  accomplished  if  he  had  remained  in  En- 
gland. He  did  not  want  the  eagle's  eye  to  endure  the 
blazing  sun,  nor  the  eagle's  wing  to  bear  him  to  it; 
but  the  beauty  and  splendour  of  the  flight  would  not 
have  been  so  conspicuous  in  a  land  of  abundant  light 
and  great  men,  as  when  he  hovered  over  heathen 
lands,  and  scattered  in  his  path  the  Word  of  Life.  If 
he  had  remained  in  England,  he  would  have  gone 
down  to  posterity  as  an  accomplished  scholar,  and  de- 
voted Christian.  Now,  his  name  stands  in  high  con- 
nection with  the  greatest  cause  that  ever  engaged  the 
attention  of  man;  and  will  remain,  through  ah  coming 
time,  as  a  beacon-light  to  guide  the  steps  of  other  noble 
spirits,  in  making  the  same  self-sacrifice  on  the  same 
holy  altar.  The  splendid  tomb  of  Francis  Xavier  will 
never  cease  to  arrest  the  attention  of  the  Christian 
pilgrim,  when  he  sojourns  at  Goa.  When  he  rests  at 
Tocat,  he  will  visit  the  humble  monument  of  Henry 
Martyn:  and,  as  memory  calls  up  the  lovely  spirit 
which  once  animated  the  ashes  that  repose  beneath  its 
base,  he  will  dwell,  with  admiration  and  delight,  on  the 
heroic  greatness  of  him,  who  consumed  a  feeble  frame 
by  the  action  of  the  mighty  principle  which  caused 
him  to  dwell,  and  die,  far  from  friends  and  home. 
"  Paucioribus  latrymis  compositus  es"  is  the  lamen- 
tation that  might  have  been  addressed  over  his  de- 
parting hour.  The  last  words  he  entered  in  his  diary, 
written  ten  days  before  his  death,  were:  "I  sat  in  the 
orchard  and  thought  with  sweet  comfort  and  peace  of 
my  God;  in  solitude  my  company,  my  friend,  and 


HENRY  MARTYN.  53 

comforter.  Oh,  when  shall  time  give  place  to  eternity! 
When  shall  appear  that  new  heaven,  and  new  earth, 
wherein  dwelleth  righteousness!  There,  there  shall  in 
no  wise  enter  any  thing  that  deflleth:  none  of  that 
wickedness  which  hath  made  men  worse  than  wild 
beasts;  none  of  those  corruptions  which  add  to  the 
miseries  of  mortality,  shall  be  seen,  or  heard  of  any 
more."  He  died,  October  16th,  1812,  at  Tocat,  in 
Persia,  at  the  early  age  of  thirty-one. 

I  cannot  abstain  from  a  brief  mention  of  one  part 
of  his  private  history.  A  noble  nature  is  ever  suscep- 
tible of  all  tender  emotions;  and  his  affections  were 
irrevocably  placed  on  one  worthy  of  his  devoted  at- 
tachment. She  did  riot  consent  to  accompany  him  to 
India;  and,  when  he  left  England,  he  felt  that  he 

"parted  with  L forever  in  this  life."     During  the 

voyage  he  landed  at  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  and 
wrote:  "In  my  walk  home  by  the  sea-side,  I  sighed  on 

thinking  of  L ,  with  whom  I  had  stood  on  the  shore 

before  coming  away,  and  of  the  long  seas  that  were 
rolling  between  us."  And  again,  five  years  after  he 
had  left  England,  he  made  this  record:  "I  was  walk- 
ing with  L ,  both  much  affected,  and  speaking  on 

the  things  dearest  to  us  both.  I  awoke,  and  behold  it 
was  a  dream!  I  shed  tears.  The  clock  struck  three, 
and  the  moon  was  riding  near  her  highest  noon:  all 
was  silence  and  solemnity,  and  I  thought,  with  pain, 
of  the  sixteen  thousand  miles  between  us.  Good  is 
the  will  of  the  Lord,  even  if  I  see  her  no  more." 
These  emotions  were  experienced  at  C  awn  pore,  far 
from  the  abode  of  civilized  man,  and  amidst  surround- 


64  JOHN  S.  NEWBOLD. 

ing  paganism.  His  pure  and  gentle  spirit,  with  that 
of  her  he  loved,  has  bathed  in  the  river  which  flows 
by  the  everlasting  throne;  and  the  union,  not  permitted 
on  earth,  has  taken  plaee  in  heaven. 

John  S.  Newbold  was  also  a  member  of  the  Epis- 
copal Church,  and  resembled  Martyn  in  genius  and 
piety.  When  he  commenced  his  collegiate  studies,  he 
was  not  serious;  but,  during  his  terms,  he  became  the 
subject  of  a  very  extensive  revival.  Before  this  pe- 
riod, he  was  incomparably  the  most  distinguished 
member  of  his  class;  and  it  was  conceded  that  he 
would  take  the  highest  academical  honours.  He  par- 
ticularly excelled  in  mathematics  and  philosophy;  a 
knowledge  of  which  he  acquired  with  great  facility. 
After  his  conversion,  his  views  received  a  different 
direction;  and  the  attainment  of  honours  ceased  to  be 
an  object  of  pursuit,  or  desire.  Yet  he  always  main- 
tained a  high  position  in  his  class,  and  diligently  pur- 
sued his  studies,  as  far  as  was  necessary  to  obtain 
accurate  knowledge  of  the  subjects,  without  effort  to 
recite  so  as  to  receive  the  highest  commendation. 
Newbold  was  not  my  contemporary  at  Princeton  Col- 
lege; but  his  collegiate  history  was  as  familiar  to  the 
students  as  household  words.  Years  have  rolled  by, 
and  thousands  of  other  forms  and  scenes  have  arisen 
before  me  since  that  lovely  spirit  passed  away;  yet, 
memory  calls  him  back  to  life,  and  he  now  stands 
before  me,  invested  with  almost  living  reality.  That 
manly  form,  that  cordial  grasp,  that  child-like  sim- 
plicity of  character — the  invariable  attendant  on  a  truly 
noble  mind — those  soft  and  touching  tones  of  suppli- 


JOHN  S.  NEWBOLD.  65 

cation  with  which  he  led  the  devotions  of  others;  that 
calm,  almost  heavenly  smile  which  indicated  the  pure, 
henevolent,  devotional  spirit  that  dwelt  within!  Other 
forms  may  fade  beyond  the  power  of  recall,  but  this  is 
ineffaceable.  It  is  with  great  pleasure  my  unpretending 
pen  offers  this  humble  tribute  to  the  memory  of  one, 
who  always,  as  he  grasped  my  hand,  called  me  brother. 
He  was  comparatively  unknown  to  fame — having  died 
in  the  early  morning  of  life,  and  before  he  commenced 
to  discharge  the  duties  of  the  profession  to  which  he 
had  devoted  his  powers.  Possessing  a  strong  mind, 
correct  taste,  and  laborious  habits,  had  his  life  been 
prolonged,  he  would  have  been  one  of  the  most  useful 
men  of  the  age.  Time  did  not  wait  to  touch  his 
person  with  the  decay  of  years;  but  used  his  scythe 
before  he  had  attained  the  vigour  of  his  intellect,  or 
the  maturity  of  his  manhood.  His  friends,  and  the 
Church,  expected  fruit  from  his  prolonged  life,  and 
useful  labours.  In  one  sense  he  did  not  die  young; 
because,  that  life  is  long  which  accomplishes  its  great 
end.  Men  of  piety,  and  men  of  genius!  "Tread 
lightly  on  his  ashes — he  was  your  kinsman." 

Newbold  was  remarkable  for  the  union  of  genius, 
great  simplicity  of  character,  and  ardent  piety  which 
seemed  daily  to  increase:  thus  indicating — as  was  also 
the  case  with  Summerfield  and  Spenser — that  the 
body  in  which  the  burning  spirit  dwelt,  was  rapidly 
tending  to  dissolution,  and  that  another  bright  star 
would  soon  shine  in  heaven.  He  was  a  contemporary 
of  Sylvester  Larned,  at  the  Princeton  Theological  Semi- 
nary; who,  like  him,  met  the  fate  so  common  to  those 


66  JOHN  S.  NEWBOLD. 

who  possess  goodness  and  genius— an  early  grave. 
But  the  contrast  between  these  highly  gifted  men  was 
very  striking.  Newbold  was  all  meekness  and  gentle- 
ness; and  would  have  offered  to  men  the  winning 
invitations  of  divine  mercy.  The  character  of  Lamed 
was  bold  and  daring;  and  he  presented  to  his  hearers 
the  denunciations  of  coming  judgment.  Newbold 
had  more  of  the  true  character  of  genius — the  power 
of  conducting  intricate  analysis,  and  investigating  ab- 
stract science.  Lamed  arrested  attention  by  the  manly 
eloquence  with  which  he  was  able  to  invest  any  sub- 
ject with  importance.  Newbold  was  tall  and  well 
proportioned,  and  exceedingly  modest  in  his  carriage. 
Lamed  was  the  finest  specimen  of  man  I  ever  knew 
— his  form  cast  in  the  most  perfect  mould;  his  face 
chiseled  without  a  fault;  his  eye  of  a  piercing  bright- 
ness; his  spirit  without  fear.  Had  a  maniac  approach- 
ed Newbold  with  a  drawn  dagger,  he  would  have  been 
disarmed  by  the  almost  heavenly  mildness  of  his 
countenance,  and  his  gentle  bearing.  When  a  luna- 
tic once  met  Lamed  alone  in  the  fields,  and  stood 
before  him  with  uplifted  weapon,  he  bared  his  bosom, 
and,  fixing  bis  eye  upon  him,  told  him  to  strike.  The 
maniac  looked  in  his  face,  and  his  arm  fell  by  his 
side. 

Newbold  had  determined  on  going  to  Persia,  as  a 
missionary;  and  would  have  been  a  worthy  successor 
to  Martyn,  who  left  the  Persian  and  Hisdoostanee 
Scriptures  as  an  enduring  monument  to  his  energy, 
and  his  genius.  The  character  of  Newbold  emi- 
nently qualified  him  to  occupy  that  field  of  labour. 


JOHN  S.  NEWBOLD.  67 

Like  David,  he  had  it  in  his  heart  to  execute  a  work: 
it  did  not  please  his  Master  to  allow  the  servant 
to  accomplish  his  desires.  He  offered  himself  a  living 
sacrifice  upon  the  altar:  the  fire  was  sent  down  to  con- 
sume the  victim,  and  then  conveyed  the  spirit  back  to 
heaven. 

Jonah  thought  he  did  well  to  be  angry  when  his 
gourd  prematurely  withered.  But  friends  should  not 
repine,  when  Christians  are  early  taken  away  from 
the  "evil  to  come."  It  was  beautifully  said  by  an 
ancient  sage,  They  whom  the  gods  love,  die  young. 
The  reason  of  this  was  obscure  to  the  heathen  philo- 
sopher: it  is  made  plain  by  the  light  of  Revelation. 
Why  should  the  gentle,  the  pure,  the  lovely,  be  long- 
detained  in  a  world  where  every  passing  storm  rocks 
the  tenement;  every  inbred  corruption  pains  the  heart; 
every  view  of  human  misery  sickens  the  sensibilities? 
The  rude  blast  withers  the  tender  flower:  let  it  then 
be  transplanted  to  its  native  clime.  The  most  beauti- 
ful tree  of  the  woods  has  often  a  concealed  worm 
preying  upon  its  heart.  Birds  that  sing  sweetest,  do 
not  live  longest.  The  swan,  as  he  gently  swims  over 
the  bosom  of  the  lake,  pours  forth  his  softest  notes 
when  near  his  dying  hour.  So,  the  Christian,  whose 
soul  has  been  tuned  to  the  music  of  heaven,  departs 
early,  that  he  may  join  the  choir  composed  of  the 
"general  assembly  and  Church  of  the  first  born." 


AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

Human  nature  does  not  change  with  passing  ages; 
and  the  question,  Can  any  good  thing  come  out  of 
Nazareth?  is  asked  now,  as  it  was  eighteen  hundred 
years  ago.  A  prophet  is  not  without  honour,  save  in 
his  own  countiy,  is  a  truth,  the  confirmation  of  which 
we  daily  witness.  Who  has  not  observed  the  magic  of 
a  name?  The  mass  of  mankind  admire  a  beautiful 
painting,  if  it  be  the  acknowledged  work  of  a  master 
whose  pencil  confers  immortality.  The  same  painting, 
if  ascribed  to  an  inferior  artist,  would  be  divested  of 
half  its  beauties,  except  to  those  who  are  skilled  in  the 
art.  Who  reads  an  American  book?  tauntingly  asked 
a  proud  Briton.  Englishmen  think  more  favorably  of 
us  now,  than  they  did  when  this  question  was  asked. 
At  the  meeting  of  the  British  Association  for  the  pro- 
motion of  Science,  held  at  Manchester,  in  June,  1842, 
Sir  John  Herschel — referring  to  Mr.  Schoolcraft,  an 
American  geographer,  who  had  communicated  to  the 
Geographical  Society  of  London  a  series  of  observa- 
tions on  the  Lakes  of  America — said,  "It  is  impossible 
for  me  here  to  allude  to  any  member  of  the  United 
States,  with  reference  to  matters  by  which  the  least 
national  feeling  is  awakened,  without  paying  a  tribute 
7 


70  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

to  the  high  estimation  in  which  science  is  certainly 
held  by  that  great  and  rising  country.  In  every  de- 
partment of  science,  especially  those  which  receive 
their  impulse  from  Europe,  they  appear  to  take  so 
warm  an  interest  and  part,  that  they  may  be  regarded, 
in  that  sense  at  least,  as  more  completely  our  brethren 
than  formerly.  I  pay  this  humble  tribute  to  the  scien- 
tific ardour  of  our  American  brethren;  and  I  hope  that 
they  will  perceive  there  is  a  feeling  prevalent  amongst 
the  scientific  men,  and  amongst  all  classes,  of  Great 
Britain,  which,  we  trust,  will  draw  closer  the  ties  of 
brotherhood  between  the  two  countries." 

But  we  cannot  expect  entire  liberality,  towards  our 
literary  men,  on  that  side  of  the  "big  pond."  Na- 
tional jealousy  will  cause  Englishmen  to  depreciate  our 
literature,  as  they  did  our  seamanship  until  they  were 
taught  that,  gun  for  gun,  and  man  for  man,  the  proud 
lion-flag  of  old  England  was  humbled  beneath  the 
stripes  and  stars.  No  American  would  admit  that  he 
failed  to  appreciate  a  work  because  it  was  of  American 
origin;  but,  although  his  pride  of  country  reject  the 
admission,  it  does  not  follow  that  he  has  disproved  the 
secret  existence  of  what  he  so  indignantly  disclaims. 
Encouragement  and  protection  are  tenns  unknown,  as 
applied  to  American  literature. 

I  confess  anxiety  to  see  the  elevation  of  our  national 
literature:  and  I  believe  the  time  will  come  when  our 
country,  in  this,  as  in  other  departments  of  a  nation's 
glory,  will  occupy  a  proud  position.  Why  should  the 
authors  of  England  be  superior  to  those  of  our  coun- 
try? We  have  the  same  blood  in  our  veins;  we  derive 


AMERICAN  LITERATURE.  71 

our  mental  cultivation  from  the  same  immortal  works. 
Is  there  any  thing  Boeotian  in  the  nature  of  our  climate 
to  make  "genius  sicken  and  fancy  die?"  Authorship 
is  a  business  in  England;  and  writers  pass  their  lives  in 
the  production  of  works  which  procure  bread  and  im- 
mortality. Macaulay  receives  five  hundred  dollars  for 
one  of  his  articles  in  the  Edinburgh  Review.  In  this 
country,  men  who  feel  the  immortal  energies  of  genius 
kindling  within  them,  might  starve  on  the  product  of 
literary  labour.  Hence,  they  do  not  aim  to  attain  high 
literary  excellence;  but  employ  their  time  in  felling 
the  oaks  of  our  mighty  forests,  and  cultivating  the 
bountiful  soil;  or,  in  the  pursuits  of  commerce,  they 
spread  our  canvass  on  the  bosom  of  every  sea,  and  furl 
it  in  the  ports  of  every  land.  We  have  statesmen  and 
orators,  of  the  present  day,  equal  to  any  others  that 
now  live;  and,  with  the  same  cultivation,  perhaps 
Patrick  Henry  would  have  surpassed  his  great  contem- 
poraries, Chatham  and  Burke.  Our  men  of  genius 
become  statesmen  and  orators,  because  the  nature  of 
our  institutions  developes  talents  of  that  order.  When 
our  people  will  consent  to  wear  American  cloths  and 
silks,  our  manufactures  may  rival  those  of  England 
and  France.  American  artisans,  with  sufficient  en- 
couragement, would  soon  equal  those  of  Birmingham 
and  Sheffield.  I  deny  that  Englishmen  are  superior 
to  Americans  in  genius;  and  I  have  no  objection  to 
compare  our  soldiers,  our  sailors,  our  manufacturers, 
our  machinists,  our  agriculturists,  our  statesmen,  our 
orators,  with  those  of  England.  The  name  of  an 
American  occupies  the  proudest  position  on  the  page  of 


lJuMXy 


72  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

history.  Hannibal  was  the  greatest  soldier  that  ever 
Jived;  but  Washington  was  never  conquered  at-Cnniuc, 
A  Chief  Justice  of  the  United  States  has  left  a  repu- 
tation, unsurpassed  by  that  of  any  man  who  ever  wore 
the  ermine.  It  is  thought,  by  competent  judges,  that 
America  has  produced  a  metaphysician  equal  to  any 
other  of  any  age  of  the  world.  Who  taught  the 
Englishman  to  draw  down  the  forked  lightning  from 
heaven,  and  cause  it  to  play  harmlessly  by  his  side? 
Who  gave  to  the  world  the  application  of  that  mighty 
agent  which  now  regulates  the  intercourse  and  com- 
merce of  nations?  Who  invented  the  machinery  which 
has  proved  such  an  incalculable  blessing  to  the  poor, 
by  reducing,  ten-fold,  the  price  of  cotton  fabrics?  In 
the  two  wars  with  Great  Britain,  as  well  as  under 
other  circumstances,  Americans  have  proved  themselves 
equal  to  all  emergencies  with  any  competitors;  and, 
when  hardly  pressed,  have  shewn,  even  in  the  infancy 
of  political  existence,  the  strength  of  a  giant.  It  would 
never  have  been  supposed  that  the  infant  Hercules  had 
the  power  to  strangle  the  two  serpents,  had  not  the  trial 
been  offered  by  the  jealousy  of  Juno.  In  like  man- 
ner, the  sleeping,  yet  giant-like  energies  of  our  manu- 
facturers and  mechanics,  can  only  be  called  into  action 
by  the  encouragement  of  competition  with  the  older 
nations  of  Europe. 

Englishmen  wTrite  better  books  than  Americans,  for 
the  same  reason  that  they  make  better  cutlery  and 
cloths:  they  receive  compensation  for  labour.  No 
man,  who  is  dependent  on  his  labour  for  bread,  will 
devote  his  talents  to  literature,  unless  he  can  look  for- 


AMERICAN  LITERATURE.  73 

ward  to  the  prospect  of  honourable  support,  in  connec- 
tion with  a  life  of  literary  toil.  The  literary  man,  the 
man  who  acquires,  but  does  not  produce — so  beauti- 
fully compared,  by  the  elder  D'Israeli,  to  the  streams 
that  flow  under  ground,  and  contribute  to  supply  and 
swell  the  lake,  themselves  unseen  and  unknown — 
may  exist  in  any  country,  if  he  have  leisure,  and  the 
means  to  indulge  his  tastes.  But  the  author  is  made 
of  different  materials;  and  something  more  exciting, 
more  propelling,  is  required  for  authorship.  Genius 
alone  will  not  make  authors,  for  the  same  reason  that 
a  rich  virgin-soil  will  not,  without  cultivation,  produce 
a  harvest.  And,  as  every  product  of  the  soil  requires 
its  appropriate  culture  to  ensure  a  reward  for  the 
labour  of  the  cultivator,  so  with  the  human  mind. 
The  Poet  forms  no  exception  to  the  general  rule, 
although  the  remark  -QfyMjatsme  be  true,  Poeta  nasci-jt 
tur,  non  jit.  Burns  cultivated  his  poetic  genius  as  he 
followed  the  plough;  or  when  he  lay  on  a  mass  of 
straw  in  his  barn-yard,  and,  looking  on  a  planet  in  the 
clear,  stany  sky,  composed  that  noblest  of  all  his 
lyrics,  "To  Mary  in  Heaven."  Hogg  cultivated  his 
genius  as  he  watched  his  flocks  on  the  banks  of  the 
Ettrick;  or  became  familiar  with  the  scenes  and  le- 
gends of  the  hills  and  valleys  of  Scotland.  The 
Oneida  Chief  displayed  a  genius  for  oratory  when  he 
said,  "When  Jesus  Christ  came  into  the  world,  he 
threw  his  blanket  around  him,  but  the  God  was 
within."  So,  the  Moslem  General  who  exclaimed 
to  the  army,  dismayed  and  confused  by  the  fall  of 
their  Commander  in  the  midst  of  battle,   "What  if 

out,  <L  /aZ**L> m-D "l*CJh6 'r 


74  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

Derar  be  dead?  God  still  lives  and  beholds  you: 
March. "  Here  was  natural  eloquence,  cultivated  by  the 
scenes  amidst  which  they  had  lived.  We  cannot  ex- 
pect to  find  the  same  cultivation  and  produce  in  the 
immense  valley  of  the  Mississippi,  acre  for  acre,  as  we 
find  in  England,  which  has  been  made  a  fruitful  gar- 
den by  the  labour  of  a  thousand  years.  We  must 
wait  for  our  population  to  increase,  until  every  arood 
of  ground  maintains  its  man."  It  is  by  a  similar  argu- 
ment I  wish  to  defend  American  genius  from  the 
charge  of  inferiority. 

I  will  take  another  view  of  this  subject.  The  su- 
premacy of  English  genius  existed  in  the  Elizabethan 
Era;  and  England  has  not  produced  an  equal  to 
Shakspeare,  since  the  death  of  the  immortal  bard  of 
Avon.  Englishmen  live  on  the  reputation  of  a  few 
names,  as  some  men  wish  to  preserve  a  character  for 
virtue  by  reference  to  former  actions.  They  refer 
to  Milton,  Newton,  Shakspeare,  Bacon,  as  evidences  of 
their  intellectual  superiority  as  a  nation.  And  are 
they  not  also  our  countrymen;  descended  from  the 
same  Anglo-Saxon  race?  Did  the  fact,  that  religious 
persecution  drove  Englishmen  to  America,  change 
their  nature?  It  is  a  weakness  in  Englishmen  to 
attempt  to  depreciate  the  genius  of  America.  Intel- 
lect is  not  confined  to  any  country.  Africa  has  pro- 
duced a  Hannibal  and  a  Terence,  and  Portugal  a 
Oamoens.  The  civil,  political,  and  religious  institu- 
tions under  which  a  people  live,  control  their  genius. 
The  germ  does  not  swell,  and  bud,  and  blossom,  un- 
less it  receive  the  refreshing  rain  and  the  warming 


AMERICAN  LITERATURE.  75 

sun.  "  ?Tis  Greece,  but  living  Greece  no  more."  And 
why?  Let  history  answer.  The  modern  Greek  lives 
in  the  country  of  Homer  and  Plato;  but  the  burning 
lava,  from  the  volcanoes  of  despotism,  has  overflowed 
the  land,  and  withered  all  that  is  noble  in  his  nature. 
Where  are  the  countrymen  of  Virgil,  of  Dante,  of 
Ariosto,  of  Tasso?  They  dwell  on  the  same  sunny 
plains  of  Italy;  but  the  heavy  yoke  of  the  tyrant  has 
crushed  their  noble  aspirations,  and  bowed  them  down 
to  the  dust. 

In  the  writings  of  the  present  day,  we  want  the 
unfolding  of  deep  and  absorbing  passion:  the  concen- 
tration of  power,  which,  although  it  belongs  to  excited 
virtue,  is  not  denied  to  despairing  guilt:  that  highest 
effort  of  the  mind  of  man,  when  he  puts  forth  all  his 
energies  in  one  grand  conception.  In  this  consists  the 
supremacy  of  Shakspeare.  In  his  writings,  the  gentle 
flow  of  the  river  fills  our  imagination  with  images  of 
beauty;  and,  before  we  are  aware  of  the  change,  the 
swollen  and  impetuous  torrent  rushes  on  to  the  ocean. 
Lady  Macbeth  exhibits  the  dark  and  terrific  passions 
of  human  nature;  and,  as  we  read  the  description,  we 
see  her  standing  before  us  with  her  extended  and 
blood-stained  hand,  exclaiming,  aOut,  damned  spot!" 
There  is  nature  in  the  poetry  of  Sappho,  and  in  the 
burning  words  of  the  Abelard  and  Heloise;  and,  with- 
out following  her  guidance,  no  writer  could  adequately 
describe  the  first  consciousness  of  love — the  turning  of 
the  warm  affections  into  a  channel  where  they  had 
never  before  flowed — the  first-born  offspring  of  the 
heart  of   man.     If  a  writer  wish  to  portray  scenes 


76  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

which  prove  that,  while  virtue  is  its  own  reward,  vice 
is  its  own  punishment,  he  must  learn,  from  the  obser- 
vation of  life,  that  the  hours  of  revelry,  the  place  of 
business,  the  closet,  or  the  crowded  hall,  do  not  banish 
the  one  thought  from  the  mind  of  the  guilty;  that  the 
dying  groan  of  the  murdered,  the  despairing  cry  of  the 
violated,  are  ever  present  with  the  perpetrator  of  dark 
and  damning  crimes,  denying  all  rest  to  his  troubled 
spirit,  Genius  and  talent  are  not  the  exclusive  birth- 
right of  any  nation.  Wherever  found,  their  tendency 
is  to  exalt  our  common  nature,  since  they  belong  to  no 
clime  and  no  country,  but  are  the  treasure  of  the  hu- 
man race.  The  Great  Father  of  us  all  is  bountiful  to 
his  children;  and  we  are  taught  by  a  common  origin, 
common  desires,  and  common  destiny,  that  man  is  the 
brother  of  man.  We  all  depend  on  the  same  sun  for 
light,  the  same  air  for  breath:  hopes  and  fears,  joys 
and  soitows,  health  and  decay,  are  attendants  on  our 
journey;  and  Ave  alike  bow  in  submission  to  the  same 
irreversible  destiny,  "Earth  to  earth,  ashes  to  ashes, 
dust  to  dust." 


LORD  BACON. 

The  genius  of  Bacon  has  been  compared  to  the 
tent  which  "Paribanou,  the  fairy,  presented  to  Prince 
Ahmed.  Fold  it,  and  it  seemed  a  toy  for  the  hand  of 
a  iady.  Spread  it,  and  the  armies  of  powerful  Sultans 
might  repose  beneath  its  shade."  While  he  stood  on 
an  eminence,  and  extended  his  view  over  the  great 
ocean  of  knowledge,  his  attention  was  attracted  by  the 
pebbles  that  were  scattered  along  the  shore.  He  was 
the  most  profound  thinker  and  accomplished  orator  of 
his  age — unequalled  for  closeness  and  vigour  of  style, 
and  richness  of  fancy.  It  has  been  well  said  of  him, 
that,  with  great  minuteness  of  observation,  he  had  an 
amplitude  of  comprehension,  such  as  has  never  yet 
been  bestowed  on  any  other  human  being. 

Bacon  is  the  father  of  Experimental  Philosophy. 
Aristotle  lived  almost  two  thousand  years  before  this 
Prince  of  Philosophers  appeared.  The  Stagirite  wished 
to  establish  the  same  dominion  over  the  minds  of  men, 
which  his  illustrious  pupil  Alexander  desired  to  estab- 
lish over  nations.  The  master  was  more  successful 
than  the  pupil.  The  philosophy  of  Aristotle  continued 
to  direct  the  intellect  of  the  world,  long  after  the  em- 
pire of  the  son  of  Philip  had  gone  down  in  darkness. 


78  LORD  BACON. 

Plato  taught  his  philosophy  in  the  groves  of  Academus. 
Their  systems  triumphed  at  Rome,  and  at  Athens,  in 
the  age  of  their  founders.  Four  hundred  years  later, 
they  were  the  systems  of  the  illustrious  men  of  the 
Augustan  period;  and  they  prevailed  during  the  dark- 
ness of  the  Middle  Ages.  The  essence  of  this  philo- 
sophy was  the  inculcation  of  the  abstract  beauty  of 
virtue;  but,  it  did  not  devise  the  plans  by  which  men 
might  become  virtuous  and  happy.  Its  principles 
could  not  sustain  Cicero,  with  dignity,  during  his 
banishment  from  Rome;  and  Cato — after  having  read 
the  treatise  of  Plato  on  the  immortality  of  the  soul — 
fell  upon  his  sword,  that  he  might  not  be  compelled  to 
wear  the  chains  which  Caesar  had  forged  for  him,  and 
for  his  country.  In  all  their  arguments,  its  teachers 
aimed  at  victory  over  disputants;  and  they  thought 
philosophy  would  be  disgraced  by  attempting  any 
practical  improvement,  which  had  reference  to  the  hap- 
piness of  their  species.  They  invented  syllogisms,  by 
the  use  of  which  confusion  became  worse  confounded; 
and  the  schoolmen  supposed  they  were  well  employed, 
when  they  disputed  how  many  angels  could  dance  on 
the  point  of  a  needle.  They  endeavoured  to  prove 
that  pain,  and  exile,  and  poverty  were  not  evils;  but 
they  could  not  destroy  their  own  senses,  nor  the  senses 
of  their  disciples;  and  mankind  were  left  to  mourn 
under  accumulated  miseries,  without  the  attention  of 
philosophy  being  directed  to  the  discovery  of  the  means 
by  which  they  might  be  avoided,  or  relieved.  The 
Church  did  not  escape  the  influence  of  the  prevailing 
systems.     Scholastic  theology  went,  hand  in  hand,  with 


LORD  BACON.  79 

scholastic  philosophy — a  knowledge  of  which  the  records 
of  the  period  have  transmitted  to  our  age.  Bacon  de- 
scribes this  celebrated  philosophy  by  saying,  "It  ended 
in  nothing  but  disputation;  it  was  neither  a  vineyard, 
nor  an  olive  ground;  but  an  intricate  wood  of  briers  and 
thistles,  from  which  those  who  lost  themselves  in  it 
brought  back  many  scratches  and  no  food." 

Such  was,  essentially,  the  condition  of  philosophy, 
until  the  memorable  events  of  the  sixteenth  century 
produced  a  revolution  in  the  intellectual  world.  The 
effects  of  that  revolution  are  felt  at  the  present  day, 
and  will  extend  to  the  end  of  time.  The  giant,  Mind, 
then  burst  the  chains  with  which  he  had  been  bound 
for  ages;  and,  having  tasted  the  blessing  of  liberty, 
will  forever  continue  to  "walk  abroad  in  his  own  ma- 
jesty." It  would  be  as  easy  to  place  the  shoulders  to 
the  orb  of  the  rolling  sun,  and  push  him  back  into 
night,  as  now  to  arrest  the  progress  of  philosophy. 
The  Reformation  was  the  most  remarkable  of  the 
events  of  that  period:  and,  by  the  action  of  untram- 
melled genius,  the  mists  of  scholastic  philosophy  and 
scholastic  theology  were  dispersed,  like  the  thick 
vapours  of  night  before  the  risen  sun.  The  highest 
use  of  the  revival  of  philosophy — said  Erasmus,  the 
most  accomplished  scholar  of  the  age — will  be  to  dis- 
cover, in  the  Bible,  the  simple  and  pure  Christianity. 
Bacon  said  that  a  little,  or  superficial  knowledge  of 
philosophy  may  incline  the  mind  of  man  to  atheism; 
but,  when  properly  understood,  as  a  man  passes  on, 
and  sees  the  dependence  of  causes  and  the  works  of 
Providence,  philosophy  produces  veneration  for  God, 


80  LORD  BACON. 

and  renders  faith  in  him  the  ruling  passion  of  life. 
Thus  the  ancient  order  was  unsettled;  the  dogmas  of 
the  schoolmen  were  overthrown;  and  the  anarchy  of 
the  intellectual  world  invited  the  action  of  some 
master  spirit,  to  reduce  chaos  into  order. 

Such  were  the  circumstances  under  which  Bacon, 
the  High  Priest  of  Philosophy,  appeared.  When  a 
boy,  he  was  not  delighted  with  the  sports  of  children;  but 
separated  himself  from  his  youthful  companions,  that 
he  might  discover  the  cause  of  an  echo,  and  meditate 
upon  the  laws  of  the  imagination.  At  the  early  age 
of  sixteen,  when  he  departed  from  Cambridge,  he  had 
an  unconcealed  contempt  for  Aristotle  and  his  fol- 
lowers;* and,  it  has  been  said,  that  he  then  had  a 
glimpse  of  the  mighty  intellectual  revolution  he  was 
destined  to  accomplish.  Such  remarks  on  the  life  of 
mind  must  be  received  with  due  allowance,  as  they 
have  been  made  of  many  great  men.  Thus — accord- 
ing to  an  anecdote,  told  by  himself  at  the  age  of  four- 
score— Warren  Hastings  also  afforded  an  instance  of 
the  early  formation  of  a  scheme,  which  was  never 
abandoned  during  his  subsequent  life  of  glory  and 
disgrace.     When  seven  years  old,  as  he  reclined  on 

*  The  Aristotelian  philosophy  substituted  words  for  things.  Aris- 
totle taught  that  there  were  four  modes  by  which  all  things  in  nature 
must  exist:  the  materialiter,  or  material  cause,  ex  qua,  out  of  which 
things  are  made;  the  for maliter,  or  formal  cause,  per  quam,  by  which 
a  thing  is  that  which  it  is,  and  nothing  else;  the  fundamtaliter,  or 
the  efficient  cause,  a  qua,  by  the  agency  of  which  any  thing  is  pro- 
duced; and  the  eminenter,  or  final  cause,  propter  quam,  the  end  for 
which  it  is  produced.  Such  was  the  philosophy  which  long  reigned 
in  the  schools,  and  was  regarded  as  the  perfect  model  of  all  imita- 
tion. 


LORD  BACON.  g]_ 

the  bank  of  a  rivulet  that  flowed  through  the  old 
domain  which  had  once  belonged  to  his  ancestors,  he 
resolved  that  he  would  restore  Daylesford  to  his  family. 
Stimulated  by  this  never-dying  ambition,  he  passed  in 
India  forty  years  of  a  life  stained  by  the  murder  of 
Nuncomar,  the  capture  of  Benares,  and  the  oppression 
of  the  Princesses  of  Oude;  and  returned  to  die  at 
Daylesford,  the  possessor  of  the  estate  his  fathers  had 
lost.  From  this  early  period  of  the  life  of  Bacon, 
common  sense,  and  the  desire  to  accomplish  what  was 
useful,  were  predominant  in  his  character:  and  he 
united — a  combination  so  rare — minute  observation 
with  great  comprehension.  Without  these  qualities, 
even  his  great  genius  would  not  have  enabled  him,  at 
the  close  of  three  centuries,  to  exercise  predominant 
influence  over  the  minds  of  his  race.  He  says  of 
himself  that  his  desire  was  to  be  engaged  "in  indus- 
trious observations,  grounded  conclusions,  and  profit- 
able inventions,  and  discoveries."  He  did  not  seek  to 
excite  surprise  by  his  efforts,  but  to  produce  "fruit." 
He  did  not  aim  to  display  what  was  brilliant,  but  to 
discover  what  was  useful  and  true;  and  possessed, 
perhaps,  the  most  common-sense  mind  the  world  has 
ever  produced.  He  says,  "I  have  taken  all  knowledge 
to  be  my  province."  Instead  of  indulging  visions  of 
what  men  might  obtain  by  the  sublimations  of  a  false 
philosophy,  he  considered  them  in  their  true  nature, 
and  endeavoured  to  promote  their  usefulness,  and  con- 
sequent happiness.  Hume  says  he  was,  A  man  uni- 
versally admired  for  the  greatness  of  his  genius,  and 


8 


82  LORD  BACON. 

beloved  for  the  courteousness  and  humanity  of  his 
behaviour— the  great  ornament  of  his  age  and  nation. 
The  Essays  of  Bacon  are  the  portion  of  his  writings 
best  known  to  the  popular  mind.  They  discuss  sub- 
jects relating  to  the  interests,  and  adapted  to  the  com- 
prehension of  the  multitude;  and,  if  he  had  written 
nothing  else,  they  would  have  made  his  name  immortal. 
Dugald  Stewart  calls  them,  "The  best  known  and  the 
most  popular  of  all  his  works,  where  the  superiority  of 
his  genius  appears  to  the  greatest  advantage;  the  novelty 
and  depth  of  his  reflections  often  receiving  a  strong 
relief  from  the  triteness  of  the  subject.  The  volume 
may  be  read  in  a  few  hours;  and  yet)  after  the  twen- 
tieth perusal,  one  seldom  fails  to  remark  in  it  something 
overlooked  before.  This,  indeed,  is  a  characteristic  of 
all  Bacon's  writings;  and  is  only  to  be  accounted  for 
by  the  inexhaustible  aliment  they  furnish  to  our  own 
thoughts,  and  the  sympathetic  activity  they  impart  to 
our  torpid  faculties."  But,  it  is  by  his  more  strictly 
philosophical  writings  that  he  has  erected  an  imperish- 
able monument  to  his  name.  He  is  not  the  inventor 
of  the  Inductive  Method,  by  which  we  are  taught  that 
observation  and  experiment  are  the  only  true  guides  to 
the  formation  of  just  theories.  Reasoning  by  induc- 
tion has  been  performed  by  men  ever  since  their  crea- 
tion; and  the  method  had  been  analyzed,  and  its  history 
written,  long  before  his  time.  But,  in  his  great  work, 
he  explained  the  uses  of  the  inductive  process;  and 
thus  called  attention  to  its  employment,  by  which  a 
direction  was  given  to  the  human  mind  which  has  re- 
mained for  ages. 


LORD  BACON.  83 

Shakspeare  and  Galileo  were  contemporaries  of 
Bacon;  and  their  names  will  alike  descend,  with 
reverence,  to  the  most  distant  ages  of  civilized  man. 
Bacon  has  claims,  beyond  the  other  two,  to  the  beauti- 
ful eulogy  bestowed  on  the  "High  Priest  of  the  Stars." 
"The  noblest  eye,"  says  father  Castelli,  speaking  of 
the  blindness  of  Galileo,  "The  noblest  eye  which 
nature  ever  made,  is  darkened;  an  eye  so  privileged, 
and  gifted  with  such  rare  powers,  that  it  may  be  truly 
said  to  have  seen  more  than  the  eyes  of  all  that  are 
gone;  and  to  have  opened  the  eyes  of  all  that  are  to 
come."  Bacon  said  of  himself,  "For  my  name  and 
memory,  I  leave  it  to  men's  charitable  speeches, 
and  to  foreign  nations,  and  to  the  next  age."  Thus, 
with  a  proud  consciousness  of  his  genius,  he,  who 
called  himself  "the  servant  of  posterity,"  appealed  to 
future  ages  for  the  just  appreciation  of  his  works;  and 
posterity  has  nobly  repaid  the  confidence,  by  placing 
him  in  the  constellation  composed  of  two  ancient,  and 
seven  modern  names. 

An  English  poet  has  placed  Bacon  on  an  emi- 
nence, like  that  which  the  Jewish  Lawgiver  occu- 
pied on  the  mountain  of  Nebo.  From  that  position, 
the  Prophet  looked  back  to  the  wilderness  in  which, 
during  forty  years,  be  had  wandered  with  his 
people;  and  surveyed  before  him  the  land  of  pro- 
mise, flowing  with  milk  and  honey.  So,  from  the 
proud  elevation  which  he  had  attained,  we  may 
suppose  the  Philosopher  to  have  looked  back  on  the 
intellectual  wilderness  of  two  thousand  years.  It 
might  be  deemed  an  extravagant  supposition,  that  he 


84  LORD  BACON; 

comprehended  the  true  nature  of  the  glorious  land  of 
promise  which  lay  before  him — to  which  men  would 
be  guided  by  the  light  of  his  genius.  But  we  find,  in 
his  writings,  these  remarkable  sentences:  "I  have  held 
up  a  light  in  the  obscurity  of  philosophy,  which  will 
be  seen  centuries  after  I  am  dead.  It  will  be  seen 
amidst  the  erection  of  temples,  tombs,  palaces,  theatres, 
bridges;  making  noble  roads,  cutting  canals,  granting 
multitudes  of  charters,  the  foundation  of  colleges  and 
lectures  for  learning,  and  the  education  of  youth;  the 
foundations  and  institutions  of  orders  and  fraternities 
for  enterprise  and  obedience;  but,  above  all,  the  estab- 
lishing good  laws  for  the  regulation  of  the  kingdom, 
and  as  an  example  to  the  world."  If  he  could  now 
re-appear  upon  earth,  he  would  witness  the  fulfilment 
of  these  predictions.  The  influence  of  the  Inductive 
Philosophy  has  led  to  the  discovery  of  machinery  in 
the  various  mechanic  arts.  Two  hundred  and  fifty 
years  ago,  he  held  up  a  light  in  the  obscurity  of 
philosophy;  and  we  may  almost  believe  that,  when  he 
predicted  it  would  be  seen  amidst  the  "making  noble 
roads,  and  cutting  canals,"  he  foresaw  that  continents 
would  be  intersected  by  Rail  Roads;  and  that  steam 
would  propel  mighty  ships  over  every  sea,  independent 
of  the  tides  and  winds,  by  the  action  of  which  the 
commerce  and  intercourse  of  nations  was  then  main- 
tained. Did  not  Cowley  justly  compare  Bacon  to 
Moses  standing  on  Mount  Pisgah?  He  has  claims  to 
the  character  bestowed  on  him  by  the  bard  of  Twick- 
enham, The  wisest,  brightest  of  mankind. 


WOMAN  AS  A  MISSIONARY. 

The  American  Board  of  Commissioners  for  Foreign 
Missions  having  sent  out,  from  Boston,  missionaries  to 
Siam — a  part  of  the  mission  consisting  of  the  wives  of 
the  clergymen — a  New  York  paper  published  a  list  of 
the  missionaries;,  and  commented  on  the  cruelty  of 
taking  delicate  women  to  die  with  pestilential  diseases 
in  barbarous  lands,  and  find  a  grave  in  the  sands  of  the 
-desert.  The  writer  assumes  that  the  sole  use  of  the 
wife  is  as  a  "special  comfort"  to  the  missionary;  and 
then  indulges  in  severe  remarks  against  the  selfishness 
of  those  who  feel  it  a  duty  to  preach  the  mild  and  be- 
nevolent principles  of  Christianity  to  heathen  nations. 

The  assumption  of  the  writer — that  woman,  as  a 
missionary,  acts  only  a  negative  part — is  not  true.  If 
true,  it  would  not  prove  that  her  self-sacrifice  was  use- 
less. Suppose  a  missionary  lives  longer,  and  labours 
more  energetically  and  efficiently,  by  having  kind 
woman  to  commune  with  him  when  fatigued  with 
arduous  toil,  or  discouraged  by  opposition;  to  solace 
and  relieve  him  when  burning  with  fever,  or  tortured 
with  pain?  Is  not  the  increased  amount  of  good  ef- 
fected, instrumentally,  her  work?  Had  Henry  Martyn 
been  thus  attended,  he  might  not  have  closed  his  career 
8* 


86  WOMAN  AS  A  MISSIONARY. 

so  soon  as  he  did,  when  he  sat  under  a  tree  in  an 
orchard  at  Tocat,  and  '-thought  of  God"  and  died. 
And,  surely,  no  one  will  say  that  a  Christian  woman 
had  lived  in  vain,  had  she  been  the  instrument  of  pro- 
longing the  continuance,  above  the  horizon,  of  that 
glorious  missionary  star,  whose  reflected  light  still 
shines  on  the  idolatrous  plains  of  Asia.  When  the 
Author  of  missions  sent  out  his  Apostles,  he  did  not 
require  them  to  go  alone.  He  well  knew  what  human 
nature  demanded — the  advantages  of  companionship — 
and  sent  them  by  two  and  two.  What  was  essential 
to  an  Apostle  then,  is  no  less  essential  to  a  missionary 
now. 

But  the  position  of  woman  at  missionary  stations  is 
far  from  being  negative.  Education  is  the  handmaid 
to  religion.  The  adult  heathen  is  too  strongly  wedded 
to  the  customs  and  institutions  of  his  fathers,  to  be 
easily  won  to  the  faith  and  practice  of  the  Christian. 
His  caste  must  be  abandoned;  his  licentious  indul- 
gences restrained;  all  the  associations  of  his  former  life 
severed.  In  a  word,  he  must  be  changed  from  that 
inveterate  corruption  of  the  Gentile  world,  so  forcibly 
described  by  Paul  in  the  first  chapter  of  Romans.  If 
the  children  can  be  collected  into  schools,  they  may 
receive  the  light  of  civilization,  and  be  taught  the  doc- 
trines of  the  Bible.  Is  not  the  mother,  in  civilized 
lands,  more  successful  in  teaching  the  child,  than  the 
father?  And  the  mild,  and  forbearing,  and  gentle,  and 
loving  nature  of  woman,  gives  her  the  best  qualifica- 
tions for  instilling  into  the  minds  of  heathen  children, 
the  principles  -of  that  religion  whose  essence  is  love. 


WOMAN  AS  A  MISSIONARY.  87 

The  practice  of  the  Apostles  cannot  be  adduced  as 
an  example  for  the  modern  missionary.  The  circum- 
stances of  the  world  are  essentially  different.  Then, 
all  was  pagan,  except  the  Jewish  community — at  that 
time  more  hostile  than  the  heathen  nations  to  the  new 
system:  and  the  Apostles  were  driven  from  city  to  city, 
reviled,  persecuted,  stoned:  evincing  the  sincerity  of 
their  belief  in  the  doctrines  they  taught,  amidst  the 
fagot  and  the  flame.  But  now,  Christian  nations  send 
missionaries  to  stations  among  the  heathen,  with  the 
expectation  that  they  will  pass  their  lives  amidst  the 
terror  of  the  climate  they  have  braved,  and  lay  their 
bones  beneath  the  sands  of  the  sultry  deserts.  Under 
such  circumstances — having  a  settled  home — why 
should  they  be  forbidden  to  indulge  the  tender  charities 
of  husband  and  father? 

The  writer  of  the  article  says  he  is  tired  of  reading 
accounts  of  the  death  of  our  country-women  in  Asia 
and  Africa.  But  is  he  tired  of  reading  accounts  of 
pagan  rites  and  superstitions — of  infanticide — of  the 
immolation  of  widows  on  the  funeral  pyre  of  husbands 
— of  the  deplorable  degradation  into  which  heathen 
lands  are  irredeemably  plunged,  unless  they  are  raised 
by  the  arm  of  Christian  benevolence?  If  woman's 
nature  be  so  gentle,  and  her  frame  so  delicate,  that  she 
must  not  be  allowed  to  endure  privation  and  suffering 
in  attempts  to  enlighten  the  benighted,  she  was  not  the 
proper  subject,  in  the  early  days  of  Christianity,  to  die 
a  martyr's  death,  in  order  to  witness  a  martyr's  faith: 
and  this  writer  would  have  had  her  to  deny  her  risen 
Lord,  that  she  might  escape  the  torturing  rack  and  the 


88  WOMAN  AS  A  MISSIONARY. 

consuming  flame.  Read  the  history  of  the  ten  perse- 
cutions, and  you  will  find  woman  "mighty  to  suffer" — 
the  gentleness  and  delicacy  of  her  nature  being  sup- 
ported by  the  principle  within  her:  thus  giving  a  glori- 
ous illustration  of  the  sincerity  of  the  faith  by  which 
she  lived,  and  for  which  she  died.  I  shall  never  forget 
a  remark  made  by  the  venerable  Dr.  Green  to  his  class 
at  Princeton:  "You  may  never  be  called  to  die  at  the 
stake:  but,  unless  you  have  the  spirit  of  a  martyr,  you 
are  no  Christian."  Had  not  woman  been  enabled  to 
die,  sooner  than  renounce  her  faith,  much  of  the  glori- 
ous light  of  martyrdom  had  never  shined:  much  of 
the  blood  that  has  watered  the  tree,  the  leaves  of  which 
are  for  the  healing  of  the  nations,  had  never  flowed. 

Who  is  so  much  indebted  to  Christianity  as  woman? 
It  found  her,  not  the  companion  of  man,  but  his  slave. 
The  so  much  boasted  philosophy  of  the  ancient  world 
did  not  essentially  improve  her  condition.  And,  up  to 
this  hour,  whether  you  trace  her  histoiy  amidst  the 
darkness  and  superstitions  of  India — in  the  islands  of 
the  sea — with  the  Osmanlee — among  the  red  men  of 
the  forest,  or  the  African  tribes,  you  find  her  debased 
below  the  men  of  her  country.  But  the  light  of  Chris- 
tianity arose  upon  the  nations,  and  her  condition  was 
changed.  And,  as  if  to  show  the  connexion  between 
the  position  of  woman,  and  the  existing  state  of  Chris- 
tianity, the  same  enthusiastic  age  which  sent  the  Cru- 
sader to  prove  the  sincerity  of  his  faith  by  attempts  to 
rescue  the  Holy  Sepulchre  from  the  possession  of  the 
Infidel,  saw  the  knight  throw  down  his  glove,  and 
assert  the  superiority  of  his  "Ladye-faire"  amidst  the 


WOMAN  AS  A  MISSIONARY.  89 

splendid  pageantries  of  the  tournament.  With  Chris- 
tian man,  woman  is  not  the  slave  of  his  passions,  but 
the  mother  of  his  children — the  sharer  of  his  sorrows 
and  his  joys — his  fellow-traveller  to  the  same  happy 
and  eternal  home.  And  shall  she  be  prevented  from 
labouring  for  the  extension  of  that  system  which  has 
done  so  much  for  her?  On  the  introduction  of  evil 
into  the  world,  "woman  being  deceived,  was  in  the 
transgression."  Let  her  then  be  allowed  to  aid  in 
spreading  that  light  which  alone  can  scatter  the  dark- 
ness herself  has  caused. 

When  the  Saviour  hung  upon  the  cross,  woman  did 
not  forsake  him  in  that  hour  of  agony  and  death.  On 
the  morning  of  the  third  day,  when  it  was  yet  dark, 
she  hastened  to  the  sepulchre,  and  complained  they 
had  taken  away  her  Lord,  and  she  did  not  know  where 
they  had  laid  him.  The  disciples  came,  and  departed; 
but  woman  remained,  and  stood  without  the  sepulchre, 
weeping.  When  asked  by  the  two  angels  why  she 
wept,  she  reiterated  the  complaint,  "They  have  taken 
away  my  Lord,  and  I  know  not  where  they  have  laid 
him. "  When  interrogated  again,  "Why  weepest  thou?" 
she  replied,  "If  thou  hast  borne  him  hence,  tell  me 
where  thou  hast  laid  him,  and  I  will  take  him  away." 
The  sincerity,  and  the  urgency  of  her  sorrow  were  re- 
warded by  receiving,  from  the  Master  himself,  the  an- 
nunciation that  he  had  arisen.  And  such  will  always 
be  the  character  of  woman, 

"Last  at  his  cross,  and  earliest  at  his  grave," 


CHEVELEY;  OR,  THE  MAN  OF  HONOUR. 

Lady  Bulwer  has  succeeded  in  producing  a  work 
of  some  literary  pretension,  and  of  most  abominable 
morality.  I  am  not  aware  that  she  has  ever  before  ap- 
peared as  an  authoress.  If  she  have  not  written,  she 
has  thought;  and  that  is  the  best  preparation  for  writing. 
Many  of  the  characters  are  well  drawn:  and,  as  she 
has  evidently  designed  to  give  a  picture  of  the  self- 
styled  lords  of  creation  as  little  favourable  as  possible, 
she  has  succeeded  in  that  of  Lord  de  Clifford.  Many 
passages  might  be  quoted  which  would  do  credit  to 
Bulwer  himself:  indeed,  they  sometimes  remind  the 
reader  of  the  author  of  Eugene  Aram.  I  will  select 
one  or  two: 

"There  are  feelings  on  the  mysterious  altars  of  the 
human  heart,  so  subtle,  so  holy,  so  impalpably  delicate, 
that  the  realities  which  rivet,  destroy  them,  like  the 
fairy  hues  on  some  rare  flowers;  too  beautiful  to  last, 
they  perish  at  the  touch." 

"Beautiful  Naples!  whose  sapphire  waves  flow  on 
in  music,  and  whose  flower-heathed  air  laughs  out  in 
sunshine,  as  if  primeval  Eden's  youth  still  lingered  on 
thy  shores,  mocking  at  sin  and  time!  Beautiful  Naples! 
Yenus  of  cities  rising  from  the  sea— begirt  with  beauty 


92  CHEVELEY. 

like  a  zone,  and  diademed  with  palaces!  Shall  I  ever 
again  behold  you?  No — never  at  least  as  I  beheld  you 
once;  for,  to  the  winter  of  the  heart,  no  second  spring 
succeeds." 

"Memory  is  the  conscience  of  love;  and  from  the 
moment  we  leave  what  we  love,  its  murmurs  allow  us 
no  peace." 

It  would  not  be  difficult  to  select  other  passages. 

Criticism  does  not  consist,  alone,  in  finding  faults  to 
condemn.  Its  more  delightful  and  legitimate  task  is 
to  unfold  beauties  to  admire:  and  a  true  critic  will 
rather  desire  to  dwell  on  excellencies,  than  imperfec- 
tions. I  regret  that  this  last  part  has  been  performed 
in  what  has  been  already  said.  Any  further  remarks 
must  be  those  of  unqualified  condemnation. 

It  is  lamentable  that  genius  is  so  often  prostituted  to 
corrupt  the  taste  and  morals  of  society.  This  is  too 
frequently  the  fact  with  the  writers  of  novels:  perhaps 
more  so  in  the  days  of  Fielding  and  Smollett,  than 
in  our  own.  Public  opinion  must  correct  the  evil. 
Whether  there  will  be  more,  or  fewer  novels  written 
when  that  correction  takes  place,  might  admit  of  dis- 
cussion. The  friends  of  theatres  have  sometimes  said 
that  plays,  as  moral  as  sermons,  might  be  written. 
True:  but  when  only  such  plays  are  acted,  theatres 
will  be  deserted.  Sermons  can  be  heard  elsewhere, 
and  in  more  appropriate  places. 

I  shall  not  enter  upon  an  extended  examination  of 
Cheveley:  nor  instance  the  examples  of  bad  taste 
which  its  pages  would  furnish.  On  the  work,  as  a 
whole,  I  will  remark,  that  it  affords  conclusive  proof, 


CHEVELEY.  93 

that  Bulwer  must  have  had  strong  inducements  to 
separate  from  a  woman  who  could  entertain,  and  pub- 
lish to  the  world,  such  sentiments.  It  is  probable  the 
keenness  of  invective,  the  distortion  of  portraiture  in 
this  work,  arose  from  wrongs  she  supposed  she  had 
suffered.  But  I  presume  Bulwer  is  not  so  wretched  a 
character  as  Lord  de  Clifford;  nor  Lady  Bulwer  quite 
so  good  as  she  paints  Lady  Julia. 

Julia  was  young  and  possessed  of  great  personal 
attractions,  but  poor.  Lord  de  Clifford  meets  with  her, 
and,  attracted  by  her  charms,  proposes;  and  she  is  per- 
suaded to  marry  him.  As  is  always  the  case  with 
marriages,  without  any  congeniality  of  character,  or 
true  love  on  either  side,  she  soon  loses  all  attraction  for 
him.  She  endeavours,  by  kindness  and  gentleness,  to 
win  him  back,  and  retain  him.  Having  failed  in  this, 
she  meets  with  Mowbray — afterwards  Cheveley — the 
very  man  to  excite  every  dormant  passion  of  her  ardent 
nature.  After  various  struggles  with  a  sense  of  pro- 
priety, and  every  better  feeling,  a  mutual  disclosure 
takes  place.  The  opportune  occurrence  of  Lord  de 
Clifford's  death  makes  her  Lady  Cheveley. 

The  doctrine  of  Cheveley  is,  if  a  woman  marry  a 
man  who  is  unkind  to  her,  and  who  does  not  recipro- 
cate those  blandishments  which  she  knows  so  well 
how  to  lavish,  she  is  free  to  bestow  her  heart  upon 
another.  And  the  man  is  styled,  emphatically,  "The 
Man  of  Honour,"  who  wins,  and  retains  the  affections 
of  a  married  woman.  I  should  not  be  so  much  sur- 
prised to  find  this  view  inculcated  by  one  of  our  sex: 
but,  that  a  woman  should  teach  such  enonnity  "  'tis 
9 


94  CHEVELEY. 

passing  strange,  'tis  wondrous  pitiful."  Lady  Bulwer 
may  argue,  as  she  appears  to  do  in  the  second  volume, 
that  no  more  restraint  should  be  placed,  by  public 
opinion,  upon  the  morality  of  women,  than  upon  that 
of  men.  The  prevalence  of  that  doctrine  would  be 
damning  to  her  sex.  Contrariety  of  temper,  and  un- 
kindness,  have  been  urged  as  good  and  sufficient  reasons 
for  divorce;  but  never  can,  without  the  interposition  of 
law,  release  woman  from  the  vows  of  her  virgin  heart. 
What  is  the  value  of  the  casket  after  the  jewel  has  been 
stolen?  A  woman  cannot  be  required  to  love  a  husband 
whose  conduct  towards  her  is  brutal.  "Nothing  on  com- 
pulsion"— especially  love.  Yet  she  can  banish  from 
her  presence  the  man  who  is  stealing  from  her  those 
affections  which,  if  she  cannot  bestow  them  upon  her 
husband,  she  ought  to  bury,  while  he  lives,  deep  in  her 
own  bosom.  When  she  married,  she  "staked  her  life 
upon  a  cast:"  having  consented  to  that,  she  must  "stand 
the  hazard  of  the  die."  Who  has  not  admired  the 
beautiful  stanzas  of  Goldsmith,  commencing  with, 
When  lovely  woman  stoops  to  folly,  in  the  Vicar  of 
Wakefield?  If  the  marriage  of  a  woman  prove  unfor- 
tunate, and  the  laws  do  not  afford  her  relief,  all  that 
is  left  for  her  "is  to  die."  The  lines  in  Addison's 
Cato  may,  with  peculiar  force,  be  applied  to  a  mar- 
ried woman: 

"When  love  once  pleads  admission  to  her  heart, 
The  woman  that  deliberates,  is  lost." 

When  Cleopatra  wished  to  die,  she  applied  an  asp 
to  her  arm,  that  the  infusion  of  its  poison  might  ac- 
complish the  object.     But  a  serpent  far  more  deadly 


CHEVELEY.  95 

than  that — as  deadly  as  the  one  which  whispered  in 
the  ear  of  Eve  amidst  the  bowers  of  Eden — instils  its 
poison  into  the  veiy  heart  of  a  married  woman,  who 
does  not,  cannot  "love  her  lord,"  when  she  listens  to 
the  impassioned  tale  of  unhallowed  love.  That  lost 
Eve  the  happiness  of  Paradise.  This  wrests  from 
woman — like  the  glorious  works  of  art,  lovely  even 
when  in  ruins — not  only  the  joys  of  earth,  but  the 
tiopes  of  heaven. 


THE  DYING  HOUR. 

A  Philadelphia  paper  gives  a  sketch  of  an  Address 
delivered  by  a  distinguished  Citizen  on,  "The  Ruling 
Passion,"  in  which  he  uses  the  following  language: 
"The  happiest  thought  in  the  last  hours  of  the  dying 
mother,  is  the  hope  that  she  will  meet  her  offspring 
hereafter:  heaven  would  hardly  be  heaven  to  her  with- 
out that  meeting."  No  man  can  be  more  deeply  im- 
pressed, than  I  am,  with  profound  admiration  of  the 
deep  devotedness  of  a  mother's  love.  The  same  Great 
Creator  who  teaches  a  hen  to  gather  her  chickens 
under  her  wings,  has  implanted  the  love  of  offspring 
as  the  pure,  irresistible,  unselfish  passion  of  a  mother's 
nature.  Matilda,  Queen  of  William  the  Conqueror, 
used  the  following  remarkable  words:  "If  my  son 
Robert  were  dead,  and  hidden  far  from  the  sight  of 
the  living,  seven  feet  deep  in  the  earth,  and  the  price 
of  my  blood  could  restore  him  to  life,  I  would  cheer- 
fully bid  it  flow."  The  distinguished  lecturer  and 
myself  cannot  differ  in  opinion,  as  to  the  all-absorbing 
character  of  a  mother's  love.  But  I  object  to  his  esti- 
mate of  the  happiest  thought  in  the  last  hours  of  a 
dying  mother:  and  to  the  opinion,  that  heaven  would 
hardly  be  heaven,  without  meeting  the  child  there. 
9* 


§8  THE  DYING  HOUR. 

A  dying"  Christian  mother  has  thoughts  far  more 
important  to  occupy  her  mind,  than  the  future  meeting 
with  her  children.  Anticipations  of  such  a  meeting 
are  appropriate,  and  would,  no  doubt,  be  indulged  in 
that  solemn  hour.  But  thoughts,  far  more  important 
than  these,  would  now  engage  her  attention.  She 
would  look  back  to  her  condition  by  nature,  and  be 
lost  in  contemplation  of  the  richness  of  the  grace 
which  saved  her  from  the  condemnation  to  which  she 
was  exposed.  Her  mind  would  be  employed  in  the 
review  of  her  life — the  turpitude  of  which  was  only 
surpassed  by  the  mercy  which  condescended  to  visit 
her  who  was  so  undeserving.  And  now,  in  her 
departing  hour,  she  would  experience  a  joy  which  no 
earthly  relations  or  possessions  could  bestow;  while, 
filled  with  the  present  Deity,  she  anticipated  the  bless- 
edness of  that  heaven  on  which  she  was  about  to 
enter.  When  Dr.  Payson  was  asked  if,  in  his  antici- 
pations of  heaven,  he  thought  of  meeting  friends,  he 
replied;  "If  I  meet  Christ,  it  is  no  matter  whether  I 
see  others  or  not."  I  cannot  better  express  my  views 
of  the  thoughts  that  would  occupy  the  mind  of  a 
dying  Christian,  than  by  quoting  some  of  the  last  re  - 
marks  of  Brainerd.  A  few  days  before  he  died,  and 
with  an  entire  certainty  of  the  nearness  of  his  depar- 
ture, he  exclaimed:  "My  heaven  is  to  please  God,  and 
glorify  him,  and  to  give  all  to  him,  and  to  be  wholly 
devoted  to  his  glory:  that  is  the  heaven  I  long  for;  that 
is  my  religion,  and  that  is  my  happiness,  and  always 
was  ever  since  I  suppose  I  had  any  true  religion;  and 
all  those  who  are  oi  that  religion  shall  meet  me  in 


THE  DYING  HOUR.  99 

heaven.  It  is  impossible  for  any  rational  creature  to 
be  happy  without  acting  all  for  God:  God  himself 
could  not  make  him  happy  in  any  other  way.  I  long- 
to  be  in  heaven  praising  and  glorifying  God  with  the 
holy  angels;  all  my  desire  is  to  glorify  God.  My  soul 
breathes  after  God.  When  shall  I  come  to  God,  even 
to  God  my  exceeding  joy?  Oh!  for  his  blessed  like- 
ness! I  am  almost  in  eternity;  I  long  to  be  there. 
My  work  is  done;  I  have  done  with  all  my  friends;  all 
the  world  is  nothing  to  me:  I  long  to  be  in  heaven, 
praising  and  glorifying  God,  with  all  the  holy  angels. 
All  my  desire  is  to  glorify  God." 

If  such  be  a  correct  view  of  the  thoughts  that  fill 
the  mind  of  the  dying  Christian,  is  it  true  to  say,  in 
the  language  of  the  lecturer,  that  the  happiest  thought 
in  the  last  hours  of  the  dying  mother,  is  the  hope  that 
she  will  meet  her  offspring  hereafter?  I  am  aware  that 
the  Prophet  asks,  "Can  a  woman  forget  her  sucking 
child,  that  she  should  not  have  compassion  on  the  son 
of  her  womb?"  But  in  that  dread  hour,  the  duties  of 
the  mother  have  expired,  and  the  subject  is  about  to 
stand  in  the  presence  of  her  Judge. 

The  other  part  of  the  sentence  of  the  distinguished 
lecturer,  is  still  more  objectionable;  "Heaven  would 
hardly  be  heaven  to  her  without  that  meeting."  Is  it 
not  strange  that,  with  the  Bible  in  our  hands,  our  no- 
tions of  what  constitutes  the  happiness  of  heaven, 
should  be  so  vague  and  unscriptural?  I  shall  not  here 
discuss  the  question,  Shall  we  recognise  our  friends 
in  another  world?  The  solution  of  that  question 
has  no  important  bearing  on  the  point,  in  the  discus- 


100  THE  DYING  HOUR. 

sion  of  which  we  are  now  engaged.  I  believe  the  re- 
lations of  father,  mother,  child,  with  all  their  attend- 
ant affections,  were  designed  for  man  in  his  social  state. 
I  will  not  say  they  all  expire  when  the  social  state  is 
dissolved  by  death;  but  I  deny  that  they  constitute  a  ma- 
terial part — I  had  almost  said  any  part— of  the  happi- 
ness of  heaven.  Is  not  the  love  of  offspring  strongly 
implanted  in  the  brute  creation?  But,  as  soon  as  the 
necessity  for  support  and  protection  has  passed,  the  pa- 
rent and  the  offspring  mix  together  in  the  same  herds 
and  flocks,  without  the  slightest  recognition.  But, 
I  repeat,  I  do  not  deny  that  we  shall  know  our  friends 
in  the  other  world.  The  belief  in  that  opinion  is  com- 
forting to  our  nature.  Even  if  the  opinion  be  not 
true,  to  disprove  it  <;ould  answer  no  good  purpose. 
But  will  any  man,  with  the  Bible  in  his  hand,  and  the 
experience  of  a  Christian  in  his  heart,  deliberately 
say,  "Heaven  would  hardly  be  heaven  to  a  mother, 
unless  she  meet  her  offspring  there?"  What  makes 
heaven,  even  on  earth,  to  a  Christian?  Is  it  com- 
munion with  friends?  It  is  communion  with  God. 
He  retires  from  the  observation  and  presence  of  man; 
he  calls  off  his  thoughts  from  all  earthly  objects,  even 
his  dearest  friends;  he  looks  up  to  the  great  I  Am,  and 
asks  that  the  Holy  Spirit  may  come  and  touch  his 
heart;  he  looks  upon  the  Saviour  on  the  cross,  and 
with  bowed  head,  and  broken  heart,  and  flowing  tears, 
he  prays,  "God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner."  And 
then  the  Spirit  comes,  and  he  is  filled  with  a  joy 
which  no  language  can  describe — no  mind,  without 
-experience,  can  conceive.     "Or  ever  I  was  aware,  my 


THE  DYING  HOUR.  101 

soui  made  me  like  the  chariots  of  Amminadab." 
What  makes  the  joy  of  the  Christian  "in  the  day  of  his 
espousals,  and  in  the  day  of  the  gladness  of  his  heart"? 
It  has  no  connexion  with  the  presence  or  existence  of 
friends;  but  it  is  the  first-born  emotion  of  the  soul 
which  gives  a  foretaste  of  heaven. 

If  the  happiness  of  heaven  consist  in  meeting 
with  children  there,  in  what  does  it  consist  with  a 
Christian  woman  who  is  not  a  mother?  Are  there  two 
heavens?  Are  there  two  distinct  sources  of  happiness 
in  the  same  heaven?  God  is  the  Sun  of  that  system, 
and  the  shining  of  his  countenance  constitutes,  alike, 
the  happiness  of  all.  Even  in  this  world,  a  high 
degree  of  religious  enjoyment  produces  almost  an  in- 
sensibility to  impressions  from  surrounding  objects. 
It  may  be  objected  that  when  the  Saviour  hung 
upon  the  cross  in  the  agonies  of  death,  he  exclaimed, 
"My  God,  my  God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me!" 
But  this  desertion,  in  that  hour  of  agony  and  blood, 
was  a  part  of  the  accomplishment  of  his  mission.  I 
believe  that  many  a  holy  martyr  has  been  measurably 
unconscious  of  the  torture  of  the  rack,  the  tearing  of 
the  pincers,  or  the  burning  of  the  fagot,  when  his  soul 
has  been  filled  by  the  presence  of  Him  who  walked  in 
the  midst  of  the  burning,  fiery  furnace,  and  whose 
"form  was  like  the  Son  of  God."  How  then  can  the 
happiness  of  a  glorified  spirit  depend  on  the  presence 
of  any  of  the  relations  of  this  world?  Father,  mother, 
child,  are  classifications  here;  but,  holy  and  unholy, 
are  the  classifications  beyond  the  grave.  I  admit  that 
the  Christian  parent,  in  his  hours  of  deepest  devotion, 


102  THE  DYING  HOUR. 

has  an  ardent  desire  for  the  conversion  of  his  child. 
I  would  not  eradicate  all  human  emotions  from  human 
bosoms.  I  admire  the  conduct  of  David,  who  fasted, 
and  wept,  and  prayed  while  his  child  lived;  but,  when 
told  he  was  dead,  he  submitted  to  the  will  of  heaven, 
and  arose,  and  washed,  and  ate;  and  when  asked  the 
reason  of  his  conduct,  he  replied,  "Can  I  bring  him 
back  again?  I  shall  go  to  him,  but  he  shall  not  return 
to  me."  I  would  allow  free  action  to  all  the  affections 
which,  in  the  social  state,  adorn  our  character;  but  let 
it  not  be  said,  that  heaven  would  hardly  be  a  place  of 
happiness  to  a  mother  without  her  child.  What  is 
Paul's  description  of  heaven?  "But  ye  are  come 
unto  Mount  Sion,  and  unto  the  city  of  the  living  God, 
the  heavenly  Jerusalem,  and  to  an  innumerable  com- 
pany of  angels:  To  the  General  Assembly  and  Church 
of  the  first-born  which  are  written  in  heaven,  and  to 
God  the  Judge  of  all,  and  to  the  spirits  of  just  men 
made  perfect,  and  to  Jesus  the  Mediator  of  the  New 
Covenant,  and  to  the  blood  of  sprinkling  that  speaketh 
better  things  than  the  blood  of  Abel." 

David  had  the  feelings  of  a  father  when  he  ex- 
claimed in  agony,  "O  my  son  Absalom,  my  son,  my 
son  Absalom!  would  God  I  had  died  for  thee,  O  Absa- 
lom, my  son,  my  son!"  He  had  the  emotions  of  a 
friend  when  he  said,  "I  am  distressed  for  thee,  my 
brother  Jonathan:  very  pleasant  hast  thou  been  unto 
me:  thy  love  to  me  was  wonderful;  passing  the  love 
of  women!"  As  a  king  and  father,  he  wept  for  Absa- 
lom in  the  tents  of  Israel;  as  a  friend,  he  mourned 
for  Jonathan  on  the  mountains  of  Gilboa.     But  will 


THE  DYING  HOUR.  103 

any  one  say,  that  their  presence  in  heaven  was  neces- 
sary to  the  happiness  of  the  sweet  singer  of  Israel? 
Let  himself  answer  the  question:  "As  for  me,  I 
will  behold  thy  face  in  righteousness:  I  shall  be 
satisfied,  when  I  awake,  with  thy  likeness." 


PHILIP  SYNG  PHYSICK. 

With  the  exception  of  Dr.  Rush,  no  medical  man 
of  this  country  has  died,  whose  departure  produced 
such  deep  sensation  as  that  of  the  late  Dr.  Physick. 
Occupying,  during  a  long  succession  of  years,  a  pre- 
eminent position  in  the  most  celebrated  medical  school 
of  the  country;  regarded  as  the  father  of  American 
Surgery,  and  scarcely  less  distinguished  as  a  physician, 
his  character,  his  talents,  and  his  fame,  became  the  pro- 
perty of  the  profession  and  of  the  nation.  Students 
from  all  parts  of  the  country  sought  the  University 
which  he  adorned;  and  the  victims  of  the  various  dis- 
eases which  belong  to  our  race,  when  other  hopes  had 
failed,  turned  their  steps  to  the  abode  of  this  distin- 
guished man,  with  a  devotion  almost  approaching  that 
which  directs  the  Osmanlee  to  the  tomb  of  the  Prophet. 

Dr.  Physick  passed  four  years  in  Europe,  engaged 
in  the  completion  of  his  medical  education,  and  was  a 
favourite  pupil  of  the  celebrated  Hunter;  the  ines- 
timable benefits  of  the  association  to  the  pupil  being 
repaid  by  the  honour  he  conferred  on  the  master.  He 
returned  to  this  country  in  1792,  settled  in  Philadelphia, 
and  took  a  distinguished  part  in  the  treatment  of  the 
yellow  fever  which,  in  the  following  year,  devastated 
10 


106  P-  S.  PHYSICK. 

that  city.  Enthusiastic  devotion  to  his  profession,  with 
favourable  opportunities  for  the  exercise  of  his  talents, 
gave  him  the  character  which,  in  1805,  elevated  him 
to  the  chair  of  Surgeiy  in  the  University  of  Pennsyl- 
vania. It  is  not  necessary  for  me  to  say  with  what 
ability  he  discharged  the  duties  of  that  situation. 
When  the  writer  of  this  sketch  pursued  his  medical 
studies  in  Philadelphia,  Dr.  Physick  had  been  trans- 
feiTed  from  the  chair  of  Surgery  to  that  of  Anatomy. 
It  was  unfortunate  for  him  that,  with  the  infirmities  of 
advancing  life,  such  a  transfer  should  have  been  made. 
He  was  most  passionately  devoted  to  surgeiy,  and  all 
the  enthusiasm  of  his  character  must  have  been  dis- 
played when  lecturing  on  that  subject.  He  had  not 
been  accustomed  to  the  dry  and  minute  details  of 
anatomy.  The  contrast  in  his  manner,  on  the  two 
subjects,  was  vividly  presented  to  those  who  attended 
his  courses  when  Professor  of  Anatomy.  At  the  close 
of  a  lecture  he  often  expressed  his  views  on  the  sur- 
gical diseases  of  the  parts  in  the  demonstration  of  which 
he  had  been  engaged,  and  then  he  was  eloquent.  The 
kindling  of  the  eye,  and  the  fixedness  of  the  features 
shewed  he  was  treating  a  subject  which  called  forth  his 
powers.  No  part  of  his  lectures  made  half  the  im- 
pression on  his  class  as  these  incidental  remarks  on 
surgery. 

Several  years  before  his  death  he  was  made  Emeri- 
tus Professor  of  Anatomy  and  Surgeiy,  having  retired 
from  the  active  duties  of  his  chair  and  profession,  and 
not  attending  to  patients,  except  at  his  office.  He 
closed  his  brilliant  surgical  operations  by  the  removal 


P.  S.  PHYSICK.  10T 

of  a  cataract:  an  appropriate  termination  of  the  pro- 
fessional career  of  one  who  had  contributed  so  much 
to  enlighten  the  world,  when  he  relieved  him  who  was 
suffering  the  privation  so  feelingly  described,  because 
personally  felt,  by  the  great  master  of*  English  Epic, 
as,  "Wisdom  at  one  entrance  quite  shut  out."  Had 
he  died  at  the  zenith  of  hk  fame  and  usefulness,  the 
impression  produced  by  his  exit  would  have  been  in- 
creased. The  associations  connected  with  the  fall  of 
the  vigorous  and  wide-spreading  oak— the  pride  of  the 
forest — differ  from  those  which  arise,  when  the  fury  of 
the  tempest  prostrates  the  sapless  trunk  with  its  with- 
ered branches. 

Dr.  Physick  had  a  mind  peculiarly  adapted  to  the 
successful  prosecution  of  his  profession.  Other  medi- 
cal men  have  attained  great  eminence  and  popularity 
by  having  vivid  imagination,  forcible  elocution,  and 
other  captivating  powers,  combined  with  solid  profes- 
sional attainments.  But,  when  they  stand  by  the  bed- 
side, and  engage  in  the  investigation  of  the  hidden 
causes  of  disease,  these  qualities  of  the  mind  often  be- 
come the  "ignes  fatui"  by  which  they  are  led  astray. 
He  had  no  imagination— no  various  learning.  I  do 
not  recollect,  during  the  three  winters  I  attended  his 
lectures,  ever  to  have  heard  him  illustrate  the  subject 
he  was  teaching  by  drawing  on  other  branches  of 
science.  He  did  not  attempt  oratorical  display.  A 
perfect  master  of  the  point  he  wished  to  impress,  he 
used  the  fewest  words;  and  his  style,  in  an  eminent 
degree,  was  simple,  chaste,  and  clear.  His  mind  was 
patient  of  labour;  accurate  in  investigation.     He  made 


108  P-  S.  PHYSICK. 

his  profession  the  object  of  his  intellectual  love.  Like 
the  traveller  having  a  long  journey  before  hirn  which 
he  is  resolved  to  accomplish,  he  did  not  turn  aside 
to  wander  over  beautiful  parterres,  and  pluck  sweet 
flowers.  His  mode  of  reasoning,  in  his  inquiries  after 
truth,  was  that  of  the  Inductive  Philosophy  of  Bacon: 
a  philosophy  which  teaches,  as  a  great  principle,  that, 
in  all  the  investigations  of  nature,  the  only  true  guides 
to  just  theory  are  experiment  and  observation.  That 
is  the  only  true  mode:  the  one  to  which  we  owe  the 
gigantic  strides  science  and  the  arts  have  made  since 
1560 — a  year  illustrated  by  the  birth  of  that  Prince  of 
Philosophers.  They  who  have  had  the  privilege  of 
standing  by  Dr.  Physick,  when  investigating  the  disease 
of  his  patient,  must  have  been  forcibly  impressed  by 
his  method.  He  did  not  permit  him  to  give  a  long 
and  unsatisfactory  description  of  his  case,  but  asked 
him  questions.  He  pressed  him  on  points  where  he 
supposed  the  truth  was  to  be  found.  His  mind  was 
eminently  practical.  He  did  not  aim  at  the  support  of 
pre-conceived  theories:  he  sought  after  facts.  I  have 
said  he  had  no  imagination;  but  I  have  not  said  he  had 
no  enthusiasm.  He  had  genius,  and,  of  necessity, 
enthusiasm.  What  is  genius*  but  susceptibility  of 
emotion? 

*The  following  is  a  fine  description  of  the  difference  between 
genius  and  talent:  "A  man  may  possess  talent  without  possessing 
a  spark  of  genius.  Talent  is  the  power  of  exertion  and  acquisi- 
tion; and  of  applying  acquisition  in  a  judicious  and  effective  man- 
ner. Talent  is  cool-headed;  genius  is  hot-headed:  talent  may  be 
cold-hearted;  genius  can  never  be  other  than  warm-hearted:  talent 
is  generally  prudent;  genius  is  often  imprudent:  talent  moves  steadily 


P.  S.  PHYSICK.  109 

I  have  observed  that  the  mind  of  Dr.  Physick  was 
practical:  and  this  was  the  true  source  of  his  great 
eminence;  the  reason  why  the  value  of  the  contribu- 
tions he  has  made  to  medical  science  has  not  been  de- 
stroyed by  time.  In  this  intellectual  endowment  he 
formed  a  striking  contrast  with  the  most  popular  medi- 
cal teacher  this  country  has  ever  produced.  Dr.  Rush 
had  a  bold,  energetic  mind;  was  full  of  enthusiasm; 
confident  of  his  great  powers;  and  possessed,  in  a  re- 
markable degree,  the  ability  to  inspire  his  pupils  with  a 
conviction  of  the  truth  of  his  doctrines;  with  a  propa- 
gandist spirit  which  disseminated  them  through  all  parts 
of  the  country.  But  he  was  a  man  of  theories,  and 
exerted  all  his  powers  for  their  support.  A  quarter  of 
a  century  has  elapsed  since  his  death;  yet,  long  before 
the  close  of  that  brief  period,  his  doctrines  had  ceased 
to  have  any  influence  with  the  profession.  His  fame 
remains,  and  will  long  remain,  as  a  brilliant  example 
of  the  control  a  man  of  genius  exercises  over  all  minds 
that  come  within  his  influence.  He  displayed  the 
same  order  of  genius  that  enables  the  warrior  to  inspire 
his  soldiers  with  the  assurance  of  victory;  or  the  states- 
man to  impart  his  own  convictions  to  admiring  senates. 

Dr.  Physick  was  remarkable  for  simplicity  of  char- 
acter.    He  displayed  no  arrogance — no  self-conceit  on 

and  regularly  forward;  genius  springs  on  impetuously,  and  lags  in- 
dolently, by  turns.  The  feeling  of  talent  is  judgment;  the  judgment 
of  genius  is  feeling.  Genius  is  proud  and  confident:  talent  is  humble 
and  unpretending.  The  mind  in  which  both  are  united,  makes  the 
nearest  approach  to  perfection;  since  the  coolness  of  talent  corrects 
the  impetuosity  of  genius,  and  the  conceptions  of  genius  dignify 
the  operations  of  talent." 

10* 


1 10  P-  S.  PHYSIOL 

account  of  his  acknowledged  pre-eminence — no  con- 
tempt for  those  beneath  him.  True  greatness  is  always 
united  with  simplicity.*  Wealth,  honour,  station,  at- 
tainment, genius,  do  not  affect  the  bearing  of  that  man 
who  is  truly  great  and  noble.  He  has  feelings  of  warm 
affection  for  all  his  race;  and  is  humbled,  rather  than 
exalted,  when  he  considers  how  many  blessings  heaven 
has  bestowed  on  one  who  is  so  unworthy.  The  posses- 
sion of  knowledge  does  not  inflate  the  truly  great  man 
with  high  opinions  of  himself.  It  serves  to  shew  him 
he  is  standing  on  the  shore  of  a  boundless  ocean,  on 
whose  bosom  he  may  sail,  but  the  extent  of  which  he 
can  never  explore. 

A  very  natural  transition  from  the  contemplation  of 
this  simple  nobility  of  his  character,  is  to  consider  him 
as  a  believer  in  divine  Revelation.  His  integrity  and 
morality  were  always  remarkable;  but,  it  was  towards 
the  close  of  his  life,  that  his  inquiries  on  the  subject  of 
the  future  condition  of  man  became  more  apparent  and 
urgent.  The  fervor  of  youth  and  the  ardent  pursuit 
of  ambitious  prospects  may  long  divert  man  from  the 
consideration  of  his  other  home;  but,  when  the  passions 

*A  distinguished  writer,  speaking  of  Lord  Chatham,  says,  "He 
was  an  almost  solitary  instance  of  a  man  of  real  genius,  and  of  a 
brave,  lofty,  and  commanding  spirit,  without  simplicity  of  char- 
acter." But,  the  testimony  of  the  same  writer — who,  in  another 
place,  describes  him  as,  "A  man  whose  errors  arose,  not  from  a 
sordid  desire  of  gain,  but  from  a  fierce  thirst  for  power,  for  glory, 
and  for  vengeance" — proves  that  he  was  deficient  in  true  nobility  of 
character.  With  a  slight  variation,  we  may  employ  Lord  Chatham's 
words,  and  say.  Vengeance  is  a  plant  of  slow  growth  in  a  truly  noble 
heart. 


P.  S.  PHYSICK,  HI 

of  his  nature  begin  to  expire;  when  the  possession  of 
wealth  and  honour  has  failed  to  confer  happiness; 
when  incipient  decay  admonishes  man  that  the  beau- 
ful  temple  in  which  his  spirit  dwells  is  tending  to  dis- 
solution, it  is  then  "the  divinity  that  stirs  within  him," 
prompts  him  to  inquire  into  his  capabilities  and  his 
destiny.  What  consolation  can  man  enjoy  amidst 
changes  and  sorrows  and  decays,  unless  he  believe 
"there  is  one  broad  sky  over  all  the  world;  and,  whether 
it  be  blue  or  cloudy,  the  same  heaven  is  beyond  it." 

It  has  been  said  that  the  pursuit  of  medical  science 
has  an  irreligious  tendency:  the  habit  of  tracing  the 
connexion  of  parts  in  producing  results,  leading  to  a 
forgetfulness  of  the  Great  First  Cause.  The  charge 
cannot  be  true.  It  is  contrary  to  all  the  established 
laws  which  control  the  human  mind,  in  deriving  con- 
clusions from  testimony.  In  all  ages  of  the  world, 
nations  have  been  taught  the  existence  of  a  God  by 
the  contemplation  of  his  works.  I  do  not  say  they 
have  been  taught  the  existence  of  the  God;  possessed 
of  the  attributes  of  the  God  of  the  Bible.  Such  is 
not  the  fact.  But,  although  the  divinity  they  worship 
be  made  of  wood  or  stone,  it  confirms  the  argument. 
The  profession  furnishes  many  illustrious  names,  be- 
sides Boerhaave  and  Physick,  in  refutation  of  the 
charge. 

The  personal  appearance  of  Dr.  Physick  was  very 
imposing.  I  have  known  men  more  majestic  in  bear- 
ing, more  commanding  in  figure:  who  trod  upon  the 
earth  with  a  step  more  firm  and  proud,  as  if  they  felt 
they  were  born  to  control  its  destinies.     But  that  clas- 


112  P.  S.  PHYSICK. 

sically  formed  head  and  face;  that  eye  which  reposed 
in  calm,  almost  melancholy  expression,  unless  when 
lighted  up  with  intellectual  fire;  those  lips  which  seldom 
smiled;  but,  when  they  did,  were  surpassed  in  expres- 
sion only  by  the  smile  of  woman!  Who  does  not  wish 
some  Praxiteles  had  lived  in  his  day,  that  he  might 
have  chiselled  those  features  in  Parian  marble,  and 
thus  convey  them  down  to  all  coming  time?  Often, 
when  I  have  called  to  recollection  the  noble  features 
of  this  great  man,  I  have  thought  of  the  eulogy  pro- 
nounced on  the  Baron  Cuvier  by  his  wife — the  noblest 
eulogy  ever  pronounced  by  a  wife  on  the  character  of 
her  husband.  When,  after  his  death,  his  portrait  was 
presented  to  her,  and  she  was  asked  if  it  resembled 
him,  "It  is  he,"  she  exclaimed,  "It  is  he;  it  is  his 
noble,  pure,  and  elevated  mind;  often  melancholy; 
always  benevolent  and  calm,  like  real  goodness.  It  is 
the  great  man  passing  over  this  earth,  and  knowing 
that  there  is  something  beyond." 


THE  DEAF  ELDER. 

The  "Christain  World"  contains  an  article,  by  the 
Rev.  T.  B.  Balch,  on  the  Presbyterian  Churches  in 
the  lower  part  of  the  Eastern  Shore  of  Maryland,  viz: 
Rehoboth,  Pitt's  Creek,  and  Snow  Hill — the  oldest 
Churches,  of  the  Presbyterian  connexion,  in  the 
United  States.  They  were  founded  by  McKemie  at 
the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century.  Sketches  of 
several  eminent  Christian  characters,  who  adorned 
these  Churches  during  the  period  the  writer  ministered 
to  them,  are  drawn  in  these  Reminiscenses:  among 
them,  that  of  the  Deaf  Elder  of  the  Rehoboth  Church, 
in  Somerset  county.  The  following  is  part  of  that 
sketch: 

"My  memory  has  been  occupied  more  than  once 
about  the  Deaf  Elder,  who  came  to  Westover,  and  gave 
me  there  the  right  hand  of  welcome.  My  first  impres- 
sions of  him  were  not  prepossessing.  No  person  was 
ever  pleased,  at  a  first  interview,  with  Dr.  Johnson; 
and  yet  his  house  was  always  filled  with  the  children 
of  misfortune.  What  a  tender  heart  the  great  moralist 
must  have  had,  to  have  taken  to  his  house  the  blind, 
the  crippled,  and  forlorn,*     So  with  our  Elder.     His 

"The  part  of  the  character  of  Dr.  Johnson,  to  which  Mi.  B.  here 


114  THE  DEAF  ELDER. 

difficulty  of  hearing  was  a  sad  trial.  To  him  the  loud 
thunder  of  the  Alps  would  have  been  little  more  than 
the  murmur  of  the  Hyblsean  bee.  But  this  affliction 
he  bore  with  exemplary  patience. 

"He  magnified  his  office  as  an  Elder.  He  remind- 
ed me  of  a  Scottish  nobleman,  to  whom  some  person 
had  enumerated  all  the  honours  he  had  ever  received. 
'But,'  replied  the  nobleman,  'you  have  forgotten  the 
best  of  all,  and  that  is  my  being  a  Parish  Elder.'  Our 
Elder  had  all  the  qualities  for  a  valuable  officer  of  the 
Church.  He  was  popular,  influential,  and  generous. 
His  purse,  his  house,  his  conveyances,  were  all  at  the 
service  of  ministers.  He  was  a  man  of  moral  courage, 
united  with  acute  sensibility.  Had  he  been  living  at 
the  time  of  the  crucifixion,  instead  of  the  period  when 
his  existence  was  conferred,  he  would  have  urged  his 
way  to  the  summit  of  Calvary,  and  have  bathed  the 
feet  of  his  Saviour  in  tears.  He  would  have  been 
awed,  but  not  stricken  into  servile  consternation,  at  the 
meridian  twilight  that  shaded  the  mountain:  would 
have  bent  his  ear,  and  lifted  his  trumpet  to  catch  the 
dying  words  of  the  Son  of  God.  He  would  have 
stood,  unmoved,  at  the  rending  of  the  rocks.  He 
would  have  begged  the  body — prepared  the  spices — - 
and  watched  the  sepulchre.       ***** 

refers,  is  described  in  the  following  extract:  "For  severe  distress  he 
had  sympathy,  and  not  only  sympathy,  but  munificent  relief.  He 
would  carry  home,  on  his  shoulders,  a  sick  and  starving  girl  from 
the  streets.  He  turned  his  house  into  a  place  of  refuge  for  a  crowd 
of  wretched  old  creatures  who  could  find  no  other  asylum:  nor  could 
all  their  peevishness  and  ingratitude  weary  out  his  benevolence." 
This  is  a  fine  view  cf  the  character  of  the  great  English  moralist. 


THE  DEAF  ELDER.  115 

"His  dwelling  was  a  kind  of  moral  nucleus  to  the 
neighbourhood.  Thither  the  poor  sent  for  bread,  the 
sick  for  medicine,  the  dying  for  consolation,  and  the 
perplexed  for  counsel.  It  was  a  caravansery  where 
the  weary  and  benighted  were  wont  to  call;  it  was  kept 
by  a  good  Samaritan,  and  there  was  nothing  to  pay. 
It  was  more.  It  was  a  spiritual  light-house  to  which 
they  looked  who  were  about  to  be  wrecked  by  misfor- 
tune, or  were  already  plunged  into  a  sea  of  affliction: 
where  penitents  heard  of  an  Ark;  where  prodigals  were 
pointed  to  rings  for  their  fingers,  to  sandals  for  their 
feet,  and  to  choirs  of  angels  who  rejoice  over  returning 
sinners. 

"He  had  lowly  views  of  himself,  but  exalted  appre- 
hensions of  the  Saviour.  This  last  was  the  theme  on 
which  he  loved  to  expatiate.  In  seed  time  and  har- 
vest, Summer  and  Winter,  when  he  moved  by  day  or 
watched  by  night,  he  was  equally  alive  to  the  glory  of 
Redemption. 

"The  writer  could  not  help  admiring  the  punctuality 
with  which  the  Deaf  Elder  attended  Church.  No 
weather  prevented.  He  would  enter  the  sanctuary, 
dripping  with  rain,  and  would  ride  over  snow-drifts 
with  his  ear-trumpet  dangling  at  his  side.  When  the 
weather  was  mild,  and  the  air  was  balmy,  and  all  Na- 
ture was  breathing  forth  through  the  channel  of  a  thou- 
sand voices,  he  would  ride  leisurely  along,  and  study 
the  picture  with  the  love  of  a  Christian.  As  a  hearer 
of  the  Word  he  is  worthy  of  special  mention.  He 
generally  sat  in  the  pulpit.  This  was  a  privilege  con- 
ceded to  him,  on  account  of  his  deafness,  in  all  the 


116  THE  DEAF  ELDER. 

neighbouring  Churches,  and  by  ministers  of  the  various 
denominations.  In  the  pulpit  he  would  thrust  his 
ear-trumpet  as  far  forward  as  modesty  would  allow. 
Sometimes  the  preacher  would  purposely  incline  to 
him;  and  his  countenance  was  an  unerring  index  of 
the  extent  to  which  he  heard.  On  communion  occa- 
sions he  would  pass  down  the  table  to  distribute  the 
elements,  and  then  promptly  return  to  the  side  of  the 
preacher.  With  this  good  man  the  writer  maintained 
years  of  familiar  intercourse.  Many  were  the  rides  we 
took  in  company;  and  the  woods  through  which  we 
passed  were  gilded  by  his  words.     ***** 

"One  day  I  reached  his  dwelling,  and  my  surprise 
was  considerable  that  he  did  not  come  out  and  bid  me 
welcome.  I  went  into  the  house,  and  found  the  Elder 
lying  in  his  bed.  Not  a  feature  was  ruffled.  A  sign 
was  made  to  him  to  take  his  ear-trumpet.  When  he 
had  done  so,  I  said,  'Are  you  much  indisposed?'  He 
replied,  'All  the  days  of  the  years  of  my  pilgrimage 
are  threescore  years,  and  my  hour  has  come.'  'But/ 
answered  I,  'do  not  forget  the  words  of  the  Idumean 
Patriarch,  All  the  days  of  my  appointed  time  will  I 
wait,  until  my  change  come.'  'For  that  change,'  said 
he,  'I  now  wait.'  'On  what,'  I  asked,  'do  you  depend 
for  acceptance?'  'Not,'  he  replied,  'on  the  dust  and 
ashes  of  my  own  obedience,  but  on  One  who  is  a  Rock 
that  will  hold  eveiy  insect  that  lights  upon  Him.' 

"Our  conversation  was  protracted.  Its  detail  would 
be  needless,  as  it  was  but  a  repetition  of  truths  that 
have  stood  the  test  of  time,  and  in  which  all  Christians 


THE  DEAF  ELDER.  117 

agree.     He  lingered  but  a  short  time  longer  on  this 
side  the  Jordan:  and  here  we  pause;  for 

'In  vain  my  fancy  strives  to  paint 
The  moment  after  death.' " 

The  Editor  of  the  Presbyterian,  in  the  early  part  of 
his  professional  labours,  passed  some  months  in  that 
section  of  the  State;  and,  I  have  no  doubt,  he  can  say, 
with  the  writer  of  the  preceding  sketch:  "One  of  my 
best  pleasures  has  been  to  cherish  a  remembrance  of 
that  part  of  the  country;  and  more  than  once  its  scenery, 
its  morning  mists,  its  rites  of  redundant  hospitality,  its 
seats  of  opulence,  and,  especially,  its  stars  of  devotion, 
have  passed  before  me  in  the  panorama  of  the  ima- 
gination." The  Editor,  I  believe,  was  also  well  ac- 
quainted with  the  Deaf  Elder — his  noble  and  intel- 
lectual character — his  generous  hospitality — his  kind 
and  sympathising  nature — his  pure  and  deep  devotion.* 

*These  recollections  are  fresh  in  our  memory.  It  was  at  the 
kind  and  earnest  solicitation  of  the  late  Dr.  James  P.  Wilson,  that 
we  visited  the  Eastern  Shore  of  Maryland,  and  Virginia,  soon  after 
licensure  to  preach  the  Gospel.  Inexperienced  in  the  world,  and 
the  high  calling  of  the  ministry,  we  appeared  amidst  these  stran- 
gers with  fear  and  trembling;  but  we  were  soon  reassured.  The 
kindness  of  many  friends  encouraged  us  in  our  work;  and  among 
these  we  must  ever  prominently  remember  Captain  Duffield,  of 
Snow  Hill,  and  the  Deaf  Elder,  at  Rehoboth.  The  former  was  once 
a  thoughtless  sea  captain,  but  was  made  a  trophy  of  grace,  and,  as 
a  private  Christian  and  Ruling  Elder,  was  an  amiable  example  of 
humility  and  devotion.  The  Deaf  Elder  was  a  remarkable  man; 
characterized  by  strong  intellect,  deep  acquaintance  with  the  Scrip- 
tures, and  the  most  cheerful  piety.  It  seemed  to  us  that  his  pleasant 
and  confident  hopes  of  heavenly  felicity  were  always  betraying 
themselves  in  his  smiling  countenance.  We  remember  our  own 
fears  in  first  preaching  before  one  who  was  so  well  qualified  to  judge; 
11 


118  THE  DEAF  ELDER. 

He  lived  a  life  of  comparative  retirement,  employed  in 
the  cultivation  of  his  estate:  but  I  never  knew  a  man 
who  was  more  universally  respected  and  beloved.  He 
had  native  genius  that  would  have  enabled  him  to  fill 
high  stations  with  honour  and  usefulness:  but  he  was 
more  a  student  of  the  Bible  than  of  any  other  book. 
From  a  very  intimate  acquaintance  with  him,  I  can 
affirm  that  I  never  knew  a  finer  specimen  of  what  I 
conceive  to  be  the  true  character  of  a  Presbyterian 
Elder.  When  the  Church  was  supplied  with  a  Pastor, 
he  was  ever  ready  to  aid— to  advise — to  execute. 
When  the  Church  was  vacant,  he  would  cause  as- 
semblies for  social  worship  to  be  held  within  the  parish. 
He  would  visit,  converse,  and  pray  with  the  sick; 
counsel  the  perplexed  inquirer,  and  comfort  the  be- 
reaved. He  was  well  read  on  theological  subjects, 
practical  and  doctrinal:  and,  on  such  points,  could 
maintain  an  argument  with  any  of  the  clergymen  of 
his  day.  He  was  a  man  of  strong  and  impetuous  pas- 
sions, beautifully  subdued  and  chastened  by  the  influ- 
ences of  religion;  and,  in  his  intercourse  with  the  world, 
he  was  meek  and  gentle.  Who  that  ever  heard  him 
lead  in  social  or  family  prayer,  can  forget  his  subdued 
and  earnest  tones  of  supplication?  And  his  soul  ap- 
peared almost  to  depart  in  the  chariot  of  Elijah,  when, 

and  we  recall  the  kind  and  paternal  encouragement  which  he  gave 
us  to  go  onward  in  our  work.  The  memory  of  the  just  is  blessed. 
Editor  of  the  Presbyterian* 

*This  Sketch  was  originally  published  in  the  Presbyterian.  The 
memory  of  an  eminently  virtuous  and  pious  man  belongs  to  posterity: 
and  the  author,  in  preparing  this  article,  was  not  restrained  by  the  con- 
sideration that  his  subject  was  his  Father's  Brother. 


THE  DEAF  ELDER  H9 

with  choked  utterance  and  flowing  tears,  he  asked  for 
mercy,  and  longed  for  Heaven.  It  caused  no  sur- 
prise when,  in  1825,  Stephen  Collins,  the  Deaf  Elder 
of  Rehoboth,  died — full  of  years  and  full  of  honour — 
that  he  was  followed  to  his  grave  by  all  classes,  who 
mourned  for  him  as  for  a  Friend  and  a  Father. 


JOHN  SUMMERFIELD- 

Some  men  of  genius  are  not  appreciated  in  their 
own  day  and  age.  They  pass  their  lives  in  the  pro- 
duction of  works  which  they  leave  behind  them;  and 
by  which  their  names  will  be  transmitted  to  the  most 
distant  generations.  The  intellectual,  like  the  natural 
sun,  appears  the  more  brilliant  after  a  temporary  ob- 
scuration. Other  men  of  genius  appear  with  the 
greatest  brilliancy  to  their  contemporaries;  and  are  in- 
debted to  them  for  their  reputation  with  posterity. 
Eloquence  of  a  very  high  order,  in  connexion  with 
youth  and  interesting  personal  appearance,  takes  cap- 
tive the  judgment  of  the  audience,  and  excites  un- 
bounded admiration.  But,  when  the  discourses  are 
published,  they  who  never  heard  the  orator,  are  at  a 
loss  to  understand  how  the  brilliant  reputation  was 
gained.  It  is  one  thing  to  behold  the  living  being, 
with  all  the  captivating  graces  of  speech,  and  person, 
and  feature,  and  motion;  and  a  very  different  thing  to 
see  the  same  being,  after  inexorable  death  has  removed 
the  spirit  which  gave  beauty  and  animation  to  the 
living  body: 

"So  mildly  sweet,  so  deadly  fair! 
We  start,  for  soul  is  wanting  there." 
11* 


122  JOHN  SUMMEKFIELD. 

Memorable  examples  of  this  truth  exist  in  our  own 
day.  They  have  existed  in  all  past,  and  will  be  found 
in  all  coming  ages.  When  the  curtain  falls  and  closes 
the  drama  with  men  of  this  description,  their  friends 
would  act  wisely  if  they  left  their  reputations  to  be 
preserved  by  tradition.  Bacon  was  the  most  profound 
thinker,  as  well  as  the  most  accomplished  orator  of 
his  age.  But  this  union  is  rare;  and,  when  the  reputa- 
tion of  a  man  is  acquired  by  the  captivating  graces  of 
eloquence,  more  than  by  vigour  of  thought,  the  publi- 
cation of  his  works  will  always  diminish  his  fame.  It 
has  been  beautifully  said  that,  Every  attempt  to  pre- 
sent on  paper  the  splendid  efforts  of  impassioned  elo- 
quence, is  like  gathering  up  dew-drops,  which  appear 
jewels  and  pearls  on  the  grass,  but  run  to  water  in  the 
hand;  the  essence  and  the  elements  remain;  but  the 
grace,  the  sparkle,  and  the  fonn  are  gone. 

John  Summerfield  was  born  in  1798,  in  Lancashire, 
England.  He  received  a  very  liberal  education,  and; 
at  the  age  of  twenty,  became  a  preacher  of  the  Me- 
thodist Episcopal  Church.  He  commenced  his  minis- 
terial labours  in  Ireland,  to  wrhich  country  his  father 
had  removed  wTith  his  family.  He  acquired  distin- 
guished popularity  in  Ireland:  and,  in  1820,  he  visited 
England,  and  preached  with  great  acceptance.  In 
1821,  he  came  to  America;  and,  shortly  after  his  ar- 
rival, he  made  a  memorable  speech  at  the  fifth  Anni- 
versary of  the  American  Bible  Society,  in  New  York. 
This  speech  produced  a  great  sensation,  and  added  to 
the  popular  estimation  in  which  he  had  been  advancing 
during  the  few  weeks  he  had  preached  in  that  city.     It 


JOHN  SUMMERFIELD.  123 

also  prepared  the  way  for  the  enthusiastic  reception 
which  awaited  him  when  he  appeared  in  other  sections 
of  the  country.  A  contemporary  writer,  speaking  of 
one  of  his  sermons,  says,  "The  man  realized  the  ethe- 
reality of  his  nature:  then  he  fett,  at  least  while  the 
lucid  rays  of  eloquence  divine  were  emitted  from  the 
almost  irradiated  speaker,  his  high  and  holy  calling. 
Powerful,  indeed,  was  the  effect  produced  by  this 
memorable  sermon.  Long  and  deep  was  the  respira- 
tion which  the  audience  drew,  when  the  speaker  sat 
down  amid  the  commingling  scintillations  of  light 
which  himself  had  kindled.  Prom  this  time  he  was 
followed  by  applauding,  delighted  multitudes:  neither 
did  that  voice  cease  to  charm,  nor  that  divinely  illu- 
mined intellect  fail  to  pour  light  into  the  understanding, 
and  to  carry  conviction  to  the  heart,  until  death  closed 
those  lips,  and  the  soul,  as  in  a  chariot  of  fire,  ascended 
to  our  God  and  his  God."  His  popularity  was  great — 
beyond  all  precedent.  All  denominations  crowded  to 
hear  him;  when  he  was  expected  to  preach,  multitudes 
of  all  classes  of  citizens  surrounded  the  Churches  be- 
fore the  doors  were  opened;  and  hundreds  were  ex- 
cluded, as  the  buildings  could  not  contain  them.  He 
walked  up  the  aisle,  looking  to  neither  side:  his  motion 
being  neither  slow  nor  rapid;  but  graceful,  calm,  meek, 
and  saint-like.  So  great  were  the  crowds,  that  Mr. 
Summerfield  was  repeatedly  obliged  to  enter  by  the 
windows.  The  celebrated  Dr.  Mason,  of  New  York, 
when  in  the  ripeness  of  intellectual  vigour,  visited 
London;  and  such  was  his  popularity,  that  the  crowds 
compelled  him  to  adopt  the  same  mode  to  enable  him 
to  ascend  the  pulpit. 


124  JOHN  SUMMERFIELD. 

In  1822,  Mr.  Summerfield  was  brought  to  the  lowest 
stage  of  bodily  health  by  a  violent  haemorrhage  of  the 
lungs;  and,  by  the  advice  of  his  medical  attendants, 
sailed  for  France  at  the  close  of  that  year,  and  passed 
several  months  in  Marseilles  and  Paris.  During  this 
period,  the  Anniversary  of  the  Protestant  Bible  Society 
of  France  was  held  in  Paris;  and  he  attended  as  the 
bearer  of  the  official  congratulations  of  the  American 
Bible  Society,  of  which  he  was  a  director.  He  pre- 
pared an  address  for  this  occasion,  which  was  translated 
into  French  by  the  Duchess  de  Brogli£ — daughter  of 
Madame  de  Stael — and  was  read  to  the  Society  by  a 
friend,  as  the  author  stood  by  his  side.  This  address, 
which  is  the  best  published  production  of  Mr.  Sum- 
merfield that  I  have  read,  was  received  with  enthusi- 
astic applause;  and,  like  the  one  delivered  before  the 
Bible  Society,  in  New  York,  caused  him  to  be  che- 
rished with  distinguished  honours. 

His  health  improved  slightly  during  his  residence  in 
France;  and  he  sailed  for  England,  where  he  remained 
until  March,  1824.  During  this  period,  he  preached 
very  seldom — causing  his  friends  great  anxiety  as  they 
witnessed  his  pale  and  emaciated  appearance.  After 
an  absence  of  fifteen  months  he  returned  to  America, 
with  some  improvement  of  health;  and  immediately 
commenced  his  ministerial  labours;  which  were  con- 
tinued in  feebleness  of  body,  but  with  great  acceptance, 
until  disease  laid  him  low.  He  died,  in  New  York,  in 
June,  1825,  in  the  twenty-eighth  year  of  his  age.  A 
long  procession,  composed  of  various  denominations) 
followed  the  corpse  through  densely  crowded  streets: 


JOHN  SUMMERFIELD.  125 

and  weeping  friends  deposited  it  in  that  mouldering 
sanctuary  where,  "Death,  the  mighty  huntsman,  earths 
us  all."  His  last  words  were,  Good  night,  as  he  kissed 
his  sister  when  she  retired  to  rest  for  a  few  hours.  He 
reposed  with  the  calmness  of  a  good  man  who  enjoys 
sweet  sleep — at  peace  with  the  world,  his  conscience, 
and  his  God;  and  he  realized  the  wish  he  expressed  to 
a  friend,  three  years  before  his  death:  "Perhaps  it  may 
be  thought  strange,  but  I  have  never  desired  that  mine 
should  be  the  triumphant  end;  singular  to  say,  I  have 
ever  coveted  the  end  of  peace — peace — peace."  How 
wonderful  is  it,  says  a  fine  writer,  that  the  young  and 
the  innocent  are  also  the  early-called!  Thousands  there 
are  of  the  old,  the  grey-haired,  the  withered,  all  bend- 
ing to  the  earth  as  if  seeking  for  their  graves  to  rest  in; 
and  upon  none  of  these  will  the  spoiler  set  his  seal; 
none  will  he  have,  of  what  would  seem  his  lawful 
prey.  But  the  young,  and  the  bright,  and  the  beau- 
tiful are  all  his;  and  the  warm  heart  that  has  not 
throbbed  half  its  season,  is  the  one  that  disease  selects 
to  train  for  the  tomb. 

I  never  saw  Mr.  Summerneld,  except  in  the  pulpit; 
and  his  appearance  there  was  interesting  in  the  highest 
degree.  No  man  ever  more  strongly  impressed  me 
widi  the  thought,  that  he  was  a  being  who  did  not  be- 
long to  this  world;  but  was  sojourning  for  a  short  period, 
that  he  might  direct  the  minds  of  men  to  a  preparation 
for  that  untried  state  on  which  he  was  so  soon  to  enter. 
His  person  was  slightly  built:  and  the  paleness  of  his 
face,  with  the  general  evidence  of  want  of  bodily 
vigour;  his  youthful  features,  and  a  countenance  re- 


126  JOHN  SUMMERFIELD. 

markable  for  loveliness,  calmness,  and  solemnity,  gave 
to  his  appearance  in  the  pulpit  a  high  degree  of  fas- 
cination. I  never  heard  a  man  who  read  poetry  so 
well — with  such  entire  freedom  from  all  affectation. 
His  addresses  to  the  Almighty  were,  perhaps,  the  most 
remarkable  of  his  pulpit  performances.  When  clergy- 
men engage  in  such  addresses,  at  public  celebrations, 
it  is  common  with  the  press  to  style  them,  "eloquent 
prayers;"  using  the  same  modes  of  expression  that  are 
applied  to  the  orations  which  succeed  them.  If  by 
eloquence,  in  that  application,  were  meant  that  mys- 
terious power  which  comes  from  the  heart  of  the 
speaker,  and  touches  the  hearts  of  the  audience,  the 
term  would  be  without  exception.  But,  when  thus 
used,  it  means  forcible  thoughts,  expressed  in  beautiful 
language,  and  well  turned  periods,  without  any  refer- 
ence to  the  spirit  of  devotion.  The  prayers  of  Sum- 
merfield  were  eloquent  because  they  were  devout. 
They  shewed  he  did  not  think  of  recommending  him- 
self; but  that  he  felt  he  was  addressing  a  pure  and  holy 
Being,  in  whose  presence  he  was  unworthy  to  appear, 
but  to  whose  mercy  he  must  be  indebted  for  pardon, 
and  the  hopes  of  heaven.  They  opened  every  heart 
to  perceive  the  beauty  of  holiness;  and  caused  the 
audience  to  exclaim  with  Jacob,  Surely  the  Lord  is  in 
this  place,  and  I  knew  it  not.  This  is  none  other  but 
the  house  of  God;  and  this  is  the  gate  of  heaven.  He 
made  confession  of  sin  as  if  he  felt  he  deserved  con- 
demnation: he  asked  for  mercy  with  the  importunity 
of  the  Patriarch,  who  said,  I  will  not  let  thee  go,  ex- 
cept thou  bless  me.     I  have  heard  Summerfleld  pray 


JOHN  SUMMERFIELD.  127 

with  humility  so  unaffected,  importunity  so  earnest, 
intercession  so  urgent,  and  adoration  so  profound,  that 
I  have  almost  expected  he  would,  like  Elijah,  "go  up 
by  a  whirlwind  into  heaven;"  and  I  was  prepared  to 
exclaim,  with  Elisha,  "The  chariot  of  Israel,  and  the 
horsemen  thereof." 

No  written  description  could  convey  a  proper  con- 
ception of  the  sermons  of  Summerneld,  when  his 
intellect,  and  his  spiritual  emotions  were  highly  ex- 
cited. Under  such  circumstances,  they  were  superior 
to  any  I  ever  heard.  His  interesting  personal  appear- 
ance, with  his  sweetness  and  simplicity  of  manners, 
prepared  the  mind  to  receive  the  arguments,  united 
with  entreaties,  by  which  he  appealed  to  his  hearers, 
in  the  tenderest  tones  of  expostulation,  Why  will  ye 
die?  The  language  and  gestures  were  exceedingly 
chaste;  the  topics  stated  with  distinctness,  and  strongly 
enforced;  the  imagery  natural  and  captivating;  the  dis- 
course, in  all  its  parts,  under  the  control  of  good  sense, 
and  good  taste.  His  humility  was  very  remarkable. 
Notwithstanding  the  homage  paid  to  his  eloquence,  he 
constantly  reminded  the  audience  of  the  declaration  of 
the  great  Apostle  of  the  Gentiles:  We  preach  not  our- 
selves, but  Christ  Jesus  the  Lord;  and  ourselves  your 
servants  for  Jesus'  sake.  The  late  Dr.  William 
Nevins,  of  Baltimore,  said:  "I  have  been  astonished 
that,  in  all  my  intercourse  with  Summerneld,  I.  never 
heard  any  thing  from  him,  even  by  accident,  that 
savoured  of  vanity.  He  was  literally  clothed  with 
humility,  nor  was  the  garment  scanty.  What  popular 
preacher  but  he,  ever  passed  before  the  world,  without 


128  JOHN  SUMMERFIELD. 

being,  at  least,  accused  of  affectation?  That  he  was,  I 
never  heard." 

Such  is  the  character  of  the  inimitable  pulpit  elo- 
quence of  the  "fervent,  fearless,  self-sacrificing  preacher, 
who  was  the  delight  of  wondering,  weeping,  and  ad- 
miring audiences."  He  had  his  inspiration;  but  it 
was  the  inspiration  of  genius  and  devotion — existing 
in  one  who  was,  in  appearance  and  manner,  the  per- 
sonification of  meekness.  The  published  works  of 
Summerfield  do  not  contain  much  posthumous  evi- 
dence of  the  power  of  his  genius.  It  would  be  as 
easy  to  transfer  to  canvass  the  beautifully-blended 
colours  of  the  rainbow,  as  it  spans  the  heavens  before 
it  disappears  amidst  the  storm;  or  the  georgeous- 
ness  of  the  clouds,  as  I  have  seen  them,  suspended 
over  the  mountain-top,  and  reflecting,  in  a  thousand 
combinations,  the  rays  of  the  setting  sun,  as  to  place 
on  paper  the  lively  and  beautiful  illustrations — the 
living,  breathing,  speaking  eloquence  of  John  Sum- 
merfield. His  reputation  with  posterity  must  rest  on 
the  descriptions  of  those  who  heard  the  touching 
pathos  of  his  eloquence,  proceeding  from  devotional 
inspiration,  combined  with  cultivated  imagination  and 
intense  animal  feeling.  Dr.  Nevins  expressed  the  fol- 
lowing just  conceptions  of  his  character:  "I  almost 
compassionate  *  the  biographer  of  Summerfield,  how- 
ever great  his  graphic  talents  may  be.  I  anticipate 
that  the  best  written  memoir  of  him  will  be  to  the 
living,  speaking,  and  acting  Summerfield,  very  much 
what  his  best  printed  discourse  was  to  the  unwritten 
eloquence  that  he  used  to  pour  forth  from  his  heart,  in 


JOHN  SUMMERFIELD.  129 

his  most  ordinary  sermons;  for  the  eloquence  of  our 
friend  was,  pre-eminently,  that  of  the  heart.  Tt  was 
the  oratoiy  of  nature:  and  I  have  often  remarked  that, 
in  any  age,  in  any  country,  in  any  language,  and  under 
all  circumstances,  he  would  have  been  the  same  magic 
master  of  the  human  heart  that  we  felt  him  to  be." 

In  early  life,  Summerfield  was  a  frequent  attendant 
on  the  preaching  of  Thomas  Spenser,  who,  by  his 
youth,  his  piety,  and  his  eloquence,  produced  such 
decided  impressions  on  the  inhabitants  of  Liverpool. 
When  that  admirable  young  man  met  an  early  death 
by  drowning,  while  bathing  in  a  stream,  and  a  well 
written  account  of  his  life  was  published,  Summerfield 
read  it  with  great  interest  and  delight,  and  thereby 
increased  the  spark  of  piety  already  kindling  in  his 
own  heart;  and  was  filled  with  anxious  desires  to 
adopt  the  same  sacred  profession.  Premature  death 
has,  in  every  age  of  the  world,  often  been  the  fate  of 
genius  and  of  virtue.  Virgil  has  celebrated,  in  im- 
mortal song,  the  early  removal  of  the  virtuous  and 
gifted  son  of  Octavia  from  the  idolatry  of  Rome, 
before  he  occupied  the  throne  of  Caesar:  and  the 
Christian  world  has  often  been  required  to  bow,  in 
profound  submission,  to  the  mysterious  providence 
which  has  plucked  from  their  orbit,  in  the  morning  of 
life,  many  of  the  brightest  suns  that  have  ever  arisen 
to  delight  and  bless  mankind. 


12 


WILLIAM  COWPER. 

I  have  seen  an  article  containing  a  quotation  from, 
The  Task,  the  author  of  which  is  described  by  the  wri- 
ter of  the  article  as,  "The  Misanthropic  Poet."  Cowper 
has  long  continued  to  be  a  favourite  with  the  literary  and 
religious  public;  and  they  will  not  consent  that  mis- 
anthropy shall  be  considered  as  a  part  of  his  character. 
If  he  had  been  a  misanthrope,  literature  would  never 
have  been  enriched  by  those  works  upon  which  his 
genius  has  conferred  immortality.  A  misanthrope 
may  possess  high  intellectual  endowments;  but  his 
efforts  will  be  simply  intellectual ,  without  the  moral 
emotions  which  address  themselves  to  the  sympathies 
of  the  great  family  of  man.  Diogenes,  in  his  tub, 
might  have  given  to  the  world  a  great  work  on  abstract 
science;  but  he  could  never  have  lamented,  in  the 
delightful  strains  of  Cowper,  over  the  misery  and  op- 
pression under  which  man  is  made  to  mourn;  or  have 
Jed  his  readers  to  repose  by  the  pure  fountains  of 
which  they  drink  who  hold  communion  with  Nature. 

That  such  was  the  character  of  Cowper,  is  abun- 
dantly evident  from  his  poems,  his  correspondence,  and 
his  friendships.  I  do  not  know  an  author  to  whom 
I  would  not  as  soon  ascribe  misanthropy  as  to  him, 


132  WILLIAM  COWPER. 

Take  the  following  well-known  lines  as  an  evidence 
of  the  kindness  of  his  nature: 

"O  for  a  lodge  in  some  vast  wilderness, 

Some  boundless  contiguity  of  shade, 

"Where  rumours  of  oppression  and  deceit, 

Of  unsuccessful  or  successful  war, 

Might  never  reach  me  more!  my  ear  is  pained 

My  soul  is  sick  with  ev'ry  day's  report 

Of  wrong  and  outrage  with  which  earth  is  filled. 

There  is  no  flesh  in  man's  obdurate  heart; 

It  does  not  feel  for  man;  the  natural  bond 

Of  brotherhood  is  sever'd,  as  the  flax 

That  falls  asunder  at  the  touch  of  fire." 

This  is  the  quintessence  of  benevolence;  and  almost 
every  page  of  his  works  contains  evidence  of  the 
same  kind  and  loving  nature. 

If  we  consider  his  Christian  character,  do  we  not 
find  it  to  be  most  beautiful?  It  was  too  often  dimmed 
byr  interposing  clouds:  but,  afterwards,  it  shone  with 
more  lustre  because  of  the  temporary  obscuration. 
The  character  of  the  sun  is  not  altered  when,  for  a 
day  or  a  week,  he  is  concealed  from  our  view.  The 
devotional  poetiy  of  Cowper  is  admired  by  Christians 
of  ail  denominations.  Penitence,  reverence,  humility, 
and  the  desire  of  holiness,  breathe  in  every  line.  All 
the  objects  of  animate  and  inanimate  nature  are  so 
many  conductors  to  lead  his  thoughts  up  to  the  Good 
Being  who  made  them  all.  And  is  it  possible  that 
he,  whose  heart  was  filled  with  such  love  for  the 
Great  Creator,  could  have  been  a  misanthrope — a 
hater  of  his  fellow?  Religion  and  misanthropy  are 
perfect  incompatibles.  "Shew  me  a  man,"  said  Lac- 
tantius,  "in  whose  heart  the  fury  of  the  tiger  is  found, 


WILLIAM  COWPER.  133 

and,  b}"  a  few  words  of  the  Book  of  God,  I  will  make 
him  gentle  as  a  lamb."  Such  is  the  invariable  effect 
of  Christianity,  in  all  ages,  on  those  who  feel  its 
power.  Misanthropy  cannot  dwell  in  the  bosom  of 
the  Christian  man,  of  whom  we  may  say,  "Happy  is 
thy  cottage,  and  happy  the  sharer  of  it,  and  happy  are 
the  little  lambs  which  sport  themselves  around  thee." 

Look  at  his  friendships.  No  man  ever  had  more 
devoted  friends.  It  was  the  misfortune  of  Cowper 
that  he  never  formed  that  domestic  association  which 
might  have  prevented,  or  would  have  mitigated,  the 
developement  of  his  constitutional  melancholy.  But, 
he  numbered  among  his  friends  the  Unwins,  the 
Thorntons,  th e  Throe kmortons,  John  Newton,  and  the 
sprightly  Lady  Austen  to  whose  animated  companion- 
ship the  world  is  indebted  for,  The  Task,  which  placed 
its  author  at  the  head  of  the  poets  of  the  day,  and 
proved  that  excellence  might  exist  in  English  versifica- 
tion, although  the  writer  did  not  imitate  the  artificial 
elegance  of  Pope.  These  friends  cherished  him,  with 
great  kindness,  amidst  all  his  gloom  and  miseries;  and 
he  remained  an  inmate  of  the  Unwin  family  more 
than  thirty  years.  Do  these  facts  prove  him  to  have 
been  a  misanthrope? 

The  great  defect  in  the  character  of  Cowper  was 
melancholy,  not  misanthropy.  The  cause  of  this 
melancholy  has  been  a  subject  of  much  discussion  with 
the  biographers  of  this  great  poet.  Medical  men  un- 
derstand how  intimately  the  health  of  the  mind  is  con- 
nected with  that  of  the  body:  how  a  slight  defect  in 
physical  organization  may  entail  acute  and  protracted 
12* 


]  34  WILLIAM  COWPER. 

mental  suffering.  Cowper  was  aware  of  the  cause  of 
his  miseries,  and  says,  "Could  I  be  translated  to  Para- 
dise,  unless  I  could  leave  my  body  behind  me,  my 
melancholy  would  cleave  to  me  there."  Again,  he 
says,  "I  arise  in  the  morning  like  an  infernal  frog  out 
of  Acheron,  covered  with  the  ooze  and  mud  of  melan- 
choly." But,  if  the  day  was  bright,  its  progress 
diminished  his  gloom.  The  intelligent  reader  will 
perceive,  from  this  statement,  that  his  disease  was  hypo- 
chondria, caused  by  dyspeptic  habit;  and  thus,  the 
well-known  morbid  sensibility  of  such  sufferers  was 
imparted  to  body  and  mind.  A  few  years  since,  dys- 
pepsia was  a  very  common  disease;  and,  perhaps,  every 
one  who  did  not  feel,  had  opportunity  to  observe  its 
painful  effects.  The  degree  of  morbid  sensibility  often 
approaches  insanity;  and  I  have  seen  patients,  whose 
minds  in  health  were  admirably  well-balanced,  re- 
strained, by  moral  and  religious  considerations  alone, 
from  plunging  the  murderous  dagger  in  their  own 
hearts;  thus  seeking,  in  suicide,  a  refuge  from  sorrow. 
It  has  often  been  said,  that  Cowper's  religion  was  the 
cause  of  his  insanity.  The  charge  shews  that  those 
by  whom  it  is  advanced  are  equally  ignorant  of  the 
nature  of  religion,  and  of  our  physical  organization. 
Religion  cures  us  of  insanity,  because,  in  one  sense, 
every  man  is  insane  who  lives,  year  after  year,  without 
an  abiding  reference  to  another  state  of  being.  The 
melancholy,  or  insanity  of  a  diseased  mind  may  as- 
sume a  religious  character;  but,  that  does  not  prove 
religion  to  have  been  its  cause,  any  more  than  the  well- 
known  fact,  that  insane  persons  often  deem  their  best 


WILLIAM  COWPER.  J  35 

friends  and  nearest  relations  to  be  their  deadliest  foes, 
proves  the  severance  of  the  tenderest  ties  by  which 
society  is  bound  together.  Sound  reasoning  does  not 
confound  effect  with  cause.  The  tendency  of  true 
religion  is  to  make  men  pure  and  happy.  She  teaches 
that  all  men  are  our  brethren;  that  we  should  minister 
to  the  wants  of  those  who  occupy  the  dwellings  of 
poverty  and  sorrow.  She  clothes  external  nature  with 
a  thousand  beauties,  unseen  by  those  who  do  not  trace 
the  character  of  the  Creator  by  finding, 

"Tongues  in  the  trees,  books  in  the  running  brooks, 
Sermons  in  stones,  and  good  in  every  thing." 

She  mitigates  our  misfortunes  by  teaching  that  they 
are  inflicted,  for  wise  purposes,  by  a  kind  Father  who 
loves  his  children;  she  leads  to  an  eternal  home  of 
happiness  in  heaven.  Can  the  tendency  of  such  a 
system  be  to  produce  insanity?  I  believe  in  the  natural 
corruption  of  our  nature;  that  the  most  innocent  being 
on  earth  could  not  endure  a  full  view  of  the  depravity 
of  the  heart,  the  sinfulness  of  the  life — and  the  con- 
sequent exposedness  to  the  divine  displeasure — unless 
the  convictions  of  sin  were  met  by  the  promises  of 
pardon.  A  conscience  thus  awakened,  attended  with 
hopeless  despair,  constitutes  the  very  essence  of  the 
misery  of  the  damned.  But  these  convictions  do  not 
drive  man  to  insanity.  When  all  expedients  have 
failed  to  procure  peace,  the  Spirit  leads  the  sinner  to 
the  cross;  he  looks,  and  believes,  and  lives.  Let  not 
religion  be  charged  with  the  miseiy  and  insanity  arising 
from  disease,  or  physical  organization.  It  has  been 
said  of  Cowper,  that,  after  he  became  a  Christian,  he 


136  WILLIAM  COWPER. 

never,  amidst  all  his  depressions,  renewed  his  attempts 
to  commit  suicide. 

The  last  six  years  of  Cowper's  life  were  passed  in 
pitiable  suffering.  That  was  a  long  eclipse  for  genius 
so  exalted,  character  so  pure,  affections  so  strong. 
The  sun  may  be  obscured  by  clouds  as  he  plunges 
beneath  the  Western  waters;  but,  he  will  arise  and 
shine  on  other  lands  in  other  climes.  The  light  of  his 
genius  and  of  his  Christian  hope,  were  concealed  in 
darkness — not  extinguished.  His  writings  will  be  the 
delight  of  the  Christian  scholar  as  long  as  the  produc- 
tions of  genius  shall  live.     They  contain 

"Not  one  immoral,  one  corrupting  thought; 
One  line  which,  dying,  he  would  wish  to  blot." 


KING  JAMES'  BIBLE. 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  facts  connected  with 
the  labours  of  literary  men  of  any  age,  is,  that  the 
translation  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  made  two  hundred 
and  thirty-one  years  ago,  in  the  reign  of  James  I.,  is 
the  version  of  the  Bible  now  in  use.  Whether  our 
increased  acquaintance  with  Oriental  customs  and  man- 
ners, and  the  changes  the  English  language  has  under- 
gone since  the  time  of  James  I.,  will  be  considered  as 
arguments  sufficiently  strong  to  require  a  new  transla- 
tion, or  a  correction  of  that  now  in  use,  we  cannot  pre- 
dict. One  thing  is  certain:  suggestions  of  that  nature 
have  not  been  received  with  favour,  except,  perhaps, 
by  some  denominations  who  suppose  that  particular 
words,  or  phrases  ought  to  be  translated  in  accordance 
with  their  distinctive  opinions.  Eveiy  person  must 
have  a  desire  to  know  the  care  with  which  the  Bible 
has  been  translated  into  various  languages,  at  different 
periods;  and  will  be  interested  with  tracing  the  steps 
which  led  to  the  translation  which  is  now — and  has 
been  for  more  than  two  centuries — daily  in  the  hands 
of  every  Protestant  reader,  in  all  countries  where  the 
English  is  the  vernacular  language.  I  propose  to  give 
a  very  condensed  account  of  King  James'  Bible:  but 


138  KING  JAMES'  BIBLE. 

will,  as  preliminary,  place  in  connexion  some  facts — 
derived  from  various  authorities — in  relation  to  different 
translations  of  the  Scriptures. 

The  collection  of  writings,  says  a  distinguished 
writer,  which  contains  the  standard  for  the  faith  and 
practice  of  Christians,  has  been  called  Scriptures,  by 
way  of  intimating  their  importance  above  all  other 
writings — Holy  or  Sacred  Scriptures,  because  they 
were  written  by  authors  who  were  divinely  inspired— 
Canonical  Scriptures,  either  because  they  are  a  rule  of 
faith  and  practice;  or  because  they  were  inserted  in 
ecclesiastical  canons  or  catalogues,  in  order  to  distin- 
guish them  from  such  books  as  were  apocryphal  or  of 
uncertain  authority,  and  unquestionably  not  of  divine 
origin — Bible,  a  Greek  word  which  means  a  book,  but 
is  applied,  by  way  of  pre-eminence,  to  this  collection, 
as  being  the  Book  of  Books.* 

The  first  translations  of  the  Old  Testament — which, 
with  the  exceptions  of  a  few  words  and  passages  that, 
are  in  the  Chaldsean  dialect,  is  written  in  the  Hebrew 
language — were  made  after  the  Babylonish  captivity; 
and  were  called  Targums,  from  a  Chaldee  word  which 

*The  Jews  divided  the  books  of  the  Old  Testament  into  three 
classes — the  Law,  comprising  the  Pentateuch — the  Prophets,  which 
were  divided  into  former  and  latter;  the  former  consisting  of  Joshua, 
Judges,  Samuel,  and  Kings:  the  latter  embracing  Isaiah,  Jeremiah, 
Ezekiel,  and  the  Twelve  Minor  Prophets  which  were  counted  as 
one  book — the  Hagiographa — so  called  from  two  Greek  words 
which  mean  Holy  Writings — comprehending  Psalms,  Proverbs,  Job, 
Song  of  Solomon,  Ruth,  Lamentations  of  Jeremiah,  Ecclesiastes, 
Esther,  Daniel,  Ezra,  Nehemiah,  and  the  two  books  of  Chronicles. 
This  division  was  called  Cetubim,  or  Holy  Writings,  because  they 
were  not,  like  the  law  of  Moses,  orally  delivered;  but  were  com- 


KING  JAMES'  BIBLE.  139 

means  version  or  explanation.  They  are  also  known  by 
the  name  of  Chaldee  Paraphrases,  as  they  are  rather 
comments  and  explications,  than  literal  translations  of 
the  text.  Some  of  these  Targums  are  yet  extant,  and 
they  are  often  mentioned  in  the  writings  of  the  ancient 
Fathers  of  the  Church.  The  most  ancient,  valuable, 
and  memorable  Greek  translation  of  the  Old  Testament, 
now  extant,  is  that  called  the  Septuagint,  made  in  the 
joint  reigns  of  Ptolemy  Lagus,  and  his  son  Ptolemy 
Philadelphia,  286  years  B.  O.  It  derives  its  name 
from  its  being  supposed  to  be  the  production  of  seventy- 
two  Jews,  usually  called  the  seventy  interpreters — 
seventy  being  a  round  number.  If  the  Pentateuch, 
and  the  Book  of  Joshua  were  translated  into  Greek 
before  the  time  of  Alexander  the  Great — as  some  have 
affirmed — all  the  copies  have  perished.  It  is  supposed 
that  the  Church  at  Antioch  possessed  a  Syrian  transla- 
tion of  the  Bible,  A.  D.  100.  In  Abyssinia,  there  is 
an  Ethiopic  version  of  the  Bible,  ascribed  to  an  author 
of  the  fourth  century.  Chrysostom,  who  lived  at  the 
end  of  that  century,  and  Theodoret,  who  was  fifty 
years  later,  state  that  they  possessed  Syrian,  Indian, 
Persian,  Armenian,  Ethiopic,  and  Scythian  versions  of 

posed  by  men  divinely  inspired,  yet  without  any  public  mission  as 
prophets. 

The  books  of  the  Old  Testament  are  now  generally  divided  into 
four  classes— the  Pentateuch,  or  five  books  of  Moses— the  Historical 
Books,  comprising  from  Joshua  to  Esther,  inclusive— the  Doctrinal 
or  Poetical  Books,  consisting  of  Job,  Psalms,  Proverbs,  Ecclesiastes, 
and  the  Song  of  Solomon— the  Prophetic  Books,  comprising  Isaiah, 
Jeremiah  with  Lamentations,  Ezekiel,  Daniel,  and  the  Twelve 
Minor  Prophets.     See  Homeis  Introduction. 


140  KING  JAMES'  BIBLE. 

the  Bible.  The  ancient  Egyptians  possessed  a  trans- 
lation into  their  language;  also  the  Georgians.  The 
most  ancient  German  translation  is  that  made  by  Ul- 
philas,  A.  D.  360.  In  all  these  versions,  except  the 
Syrian,  the  Old  Testament  is  translated  from  the  Sep- 
tuagint,  and  not  immediately  from  the  Hebrew,  in 
which  language  it  was  originally  written.  Notwith- 
standing the  great  excellence  of  the  Septuagint, 
competent  judges  decide  that  it  should  not,  as  has 
sometimes  been  done,  be  considered  as  equal  to  the 
Hebrew  text. 

The  Old  and  New  Testaments  were  translated  into 
Latin  by  scholars  among  the  primitive  Christians. 
During  the  continuance  of  the  Roman  Empire  in 
Europe,  the  Scriptures  were  every  where  read  in  Latin, 
which  was  the  universal  language  of  that  Empire: 
before  the  Christian  eera,  the  Greek  had  been  the 
general  language.  But,  after  its  overthrow,  and  the 
erection  of  various  kingdoms  upon  its  ruins,  the  Latin 
language  gradually  fell  into  disuse;  and  hence  the  ne- 
cessity for  having  the  Bible  translated  into  as  many 
modern  languages  as  there  are  different  nations  pro- 
fessing the  Christian  religion,  not  using  the  same  lan- 
guage. The  total  number  of  dialects,  in  all  parts  of 
the  world,  is  supposed  to  be  about  five  hundred:  and 
of  these,  more  than  one  hundred  constitute  languages 
generically  distinct.  The  Sacred  Scriptures  have  been 
translated,  either  wholly  or  in  part,  into  upwards  of 
one  hundred  and  fifty  of  these  various  dialects.  The 
chief  translations  of  the  Scriptures,  which  have  been 
made  into  the  different  modem  languages  of  Europe, 


KING  JAMES'  BIBLE.  141 

amount  to  about  forty- two.  The  Vulgate  is  a  very 
ancient  translation  of  the  Bible  into  Latin;  and  is  the 
only  translation  acknowledged  by  the  Church  of  Rome 
to  be  authentic.  Latin  translations  were  made  for  the 
Latin  Church,  soon  after  the  first  introduction  of 
Christianity:  one  of  which  obtained  a  more  extensive 
circulation  than  the  others,  and  wras  called  by  Jerome 
the  Vulgate,  and  the  Old  translation.  Jerome  made, 
towards  the  close  of  the  fourth  century,  another  Latin 
translation,  which  surpassed  all  that  preceded  it.  There 
are  three  classes  of  the  Vulgate;  the  ancient  Vulgate, 
translated  from  the  Septuagint;  the  modem  Vulgate, 
the  greater  part  of  which  is  translated  from  the  Hebrew 
text;  and  the  new  Latin  translation,  by  Sanctes  Pagninus, 
made  in  the  sixteenth  century — also  from  the  Hebrew 
text. 

I  will  now  give  a  very  condensed  account — derived 
from  several  authorities — of  the  translations  of  the 
Bible,  at  different  periods,  into  the  English  language. 
The  assertion  that  Adelme,  Bishop  of  Sherborne,  who 
lived  early  in  the  eighth  century  and  was  a  man  of 
great  learning,  translated  the  Psalms  into  the  Saxon,  is 
supposed,  by  some  authorities,  not  to  be  supported  by 
sufficient  evidence.  Egbert,  Bishop  of  Lindisfem, 
who  died  in  721,  translated  the  four  Gospels  into  Saxpn; 
and,  about  the  same  period,  the  venerable  Bede  made 
a  Saxon  version  of  the  entire  Bible.  Two  hundred 
years  later,  King  Alfred  made  another  translation  of 
the  Psalms:  and,  in  995,  Elfred,  Archbishop  of  Can- 
terbury, translated  into  Saxon,  the  Pentateuch,  Joshua 
Kings,  and  Esther.  The  first  English  translation  of 
13 


142  KING  JAMES'  BIBLE. 

the  Bible,  known  to  be  extant,  was  made  in  1290 — the 
author  unknown.  Of  this  there  are  extant  three 
manuscript  copies,  in  the  Bodleian,  Christ's  Church 
College,  and  Queen's  College  libraries. 

In  1382,  WicklifTe,  who  has  been  called  the  Apostle 
of  England,  completed  his  translation  of  the  Bible, 
which  was  made  from  the  Latin  Vulgate.  This  was 
not  printed;  but,  there  are  several  manuscript  copies  of 
his  work  still  extant  in  some  public  and  private  libra- 
ries. Wickliffe's  translation  of  the  New  Testament — 
the  price  of  a  manuscript  copy  of  which,  in  1429,  was 
J?40  of  the  present  currency — was  printed  in  1731. 

Several  English  versions  of  the  Old  and  New  Tes- 
taments were  published  in  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII. — 
the  most  remarkable  of  which  was  that  of  William 
Tyndal,  printed  at  Antwerp  or  Hamburg,  in  1526. 
The  New  Testament  was  translated  from  the  original 
Greek:  it  is  supposed  the  Old  Testament  Was  trans- 
lated from  the  Latin  of  the  Vulgate,  or  the  Greek  of 
the  Septuagint.  After  the  death  of  Tyndal — who,  at 
the  time  of  its  occurrence,  was  engaged  on  a  second 
edition  of  his  translation — the  work  was  prosecuted  by 
Coverdale,  and  the  Proto-Martyr  John  Rogers  who  re- 
vised the  translation  of  Tyndal  by  comparing  it  with 
the  Hebrew,  Greek,  Latin,  and  German;  and  he  also 
added  notes  taken  from  the  Bible  of  Luther.  This 
was  the  first  translation  of  the  whole  Bible  printed  in 
the  English  language;  and  was  the  first  English  Bible 
allowed  by  royal  authority.  This  work  was  published 
in  1535;  and,  as  Rogers  assumed  the  name,  Thomas 
Matthew,  the  edition  of  1537,  was  called  Matthew's 


KING  JAMES'  BIBLE.  143 

Bible.  It  was  first  printed  at  Hamburg,  and  after- 
wards in  England,  in  virtue  of  a  license  obtained  by 
the  influence  of  Cranmer,  Latimer,  and  Shaxton.  In 
1539,  a  large  folio  Bible  was  published  under  the  di- 
rection of  Cranmer,  styled  the  Great  Bible:  and,  in  the 
same  year,  another  was  published,  called  Travener's 
Bible,  from  the  name  of  its  conductor,  Richard  Tra- 
vener.  Cranmer  wrote  a  preface  for  the  Great  Bible — 
hence  called  Cranmer's  Bible — and  every  parish 
Church  throughout  England  was  required,  by  royal 
proclamation,  to  have  a  copy  of  this  Bible  in  the 
Church;  and  the  curates  and  parishioners  were  com- 
manded, by  like  proclamation,  to  have  it,  under  a 
penalty  of  forty  shillings  for  every  month  they  should 
be  without  it.  By  the  order  of  Henry  VIII.  Tonstal 
and  Heath,  Bishops  of  Durham  and  Rochester,  super- 
intended a  new  edition  of  Cranmer's  Bible,  which 
was  published  in  1541:  but,  as  it  did  not  please  Henry 
— who  added  the  title  of  Defender  of  the  Faith,  to  that 
of  King  of  England — it  was  suppressed,  by  authority. 
It  is  doubtful  whether  another  translation  was  made  in 
the  reign  of  Edward  VI.;  or,  as  has  been  said,  two 
editions  printed — in  1549,  and  1551. 

In  the  reign  of  Mary,  seven  English  exiles  residing 
at  Geneva  made  a  new  translation,  which  wTas  pub- 
lished in  1560;  and  was  called  the  Geneva  Bible.* 
This  was  the  first  English  Bible  in  which  the  chapters 

*John  Knox  was  one  of  the  translators  of  the  Geneva'  Bible, 
among  whom,  we  may  readily  suppose,  he  occupied  a  distinguished 
position.  The  Geneva  version  of  the  Bible  is  considered,  by  some 
eminent  theologians,  as  more  accurate  on  what  are  called  the  Doc- 
trines of  Grace,  than  that  of  King  James  I. 


144  KING  JAMES'  BIBLE. 

were  divided  into  verses:  an  invention  of  Robert 
Stephens,  in  1551.  In  connexion  with  this  fact,  it 
may  be  remarked  that  the  Law — called  the  Pentateuch, 
or  Five  Books  of  Moses — was  originally  written  in  one 
volume:  and  this  is  the  form  of  the  manuscripts  which 
are  now  read  in  the  synagogues.  It  is  supposed — 
from  the  Greek  origin  of  the  names— -that  the  writings 
of  Moses  were  divided  into  the  Five  Books  by  the 
authors  of  the  Septuagint  Greek  version,  or,  as  it  is 
sometimes  called,  the  Alexandrian  Greek  version.  The 
divisions  of  the  Bible  into  chapters  appears  to  have 
been  invented  by  Cardinal  Hugo  about  the  middle  of 
the  thirteenth  century.  In  the  reign  of  Elizabeth, 
Abp.  Parker  resolved  to  have  a  new  translation  for  the 
U3e  of  the  Church;  and  the  work  was  executed  by  the 
Bishops,  and  other  learned  men.  It  was  printed  in 
1568,  in  large  folio  with  short  annotations,  and  was 
called  the  Great  English  Bible;  or,  more  commonly, 
the  Bishops'  Bible,  as  eight  of  those  employed  were 
Bishops.  This  work  was  translated  from  the  Hebrew 
of  the  Old  Testament,  and  from  the  Greek  of  the 
New  Testament:  and  the  chapters  are  divided  into 
verses  as  in  the  Geneva  Bible.  Each  learned  man 
employed  took  a  part  for  translation;  and ,  when  the 
whole  was  completed,  the  different  portions  were  added 
together  to  form  the  volume — the  Archbishop  oversee- 
ing, examining,  directing,  and  finishing  the  whole. 
In  1572,  this  Bible  was  re-printed  in  large  folio,  with 
corrections,  amendments,  and  prolegomena;  and  was 
called  Matthew  Parker's  Bible.  An  octavo  edition  of 
this  version,  in  fine  black  letter,  was  printed  in  1569, 


adria  james'  bible.  145 

The  Bishops' Bible  was  used  in  the  Churches  for  forty 
years:  but,  during  that  period,  the  Geneva  Bible  was 
the  book  most  used  in  private  houses;  which  caused 
twenty  editions  to  be  printed  in  as  many  years.*  The 
Roman  Catholics,  at  Rheims,  published  a  translation 
of  the  New  Testament,  from  the  Latin  Vulgate,  in 
1582,  called  the  Hhemish  Translation:  and,  in  1610, 
that  denomination  published,  at  Doway,  a  translation 
of  the  Old  Testament,  also  from  the  Vulgate;  and 
hence  their  English  translation  of  the  Bible  is  called 
the  Doway  or  Douay  Bible.  These  two  translations 
form  the  English  Bible  of  the  Roman  Catholics. 

The  following  are  the  most  celebrated  of  the 
Polyglott  Bibles.  1.  The  Complutensian  Polyglot! 
— so  called  from  Complutum,  a  town  of  Spain,  the 
residence  of  Cardinal  Ximenes,  who  spent  50,000 
ducats  on  the  work.  This  work  was  published  in  six 
folio  volumes,  in  1522 — the  Old  Testament  in  He- 
brew, Greek,  and  Latin;  the  New  Testament  in  Greek 
and  Latin.  2.  The  Antwerp  Polyglott;  published  in 
1572,  in  eight  folio  volumes,  in  Hebrew,  Greek,  Latin 
and  Chaldee.  3.  The  Paris  Polyglott;  published  in 
1645,  in  ten  folio  volumes,  in  Hebrew,  Samaritan, 
Chaldee,  Greek,  Syriac,  Latin  and  Arabic.  4.  The 
London  Polyglott,  or  that  of  Bishop  Walton;  pub- 
lished in  1657,  in   six   folio  volumes — nine  different 

*The  first  French  Protestant  Bible  was  published,  in  1535,  by 
Olivetan,  assisted  by  his  relative  John  Calvin,  the  illustrious  re- 
former. This  translation  was  made  by  Calvin  to  conform  to  the 
Hebrew.  But  nearly  all  the  French  Bibles  are  translated  from  the 
Latin  Vulgate. 

13* 


146  KING  JAMES3  BIBLE, 

languages  being  used  in  the  work.  There  are  several 
other  Polyglotts:  also,  Diglotts,  Trigiotts,  Octoglotts. 

During  the  Conference  held  at  Hampton  Court,  in 
1604,  the  correctness  of  the  Bishops'  Bible — which 
had  been  used  in  the  Churches  since  1568 — became 
a  subject  of  discussion;  and,  as  the  result,  King  James 
I.,  who  attended  the  Conference  and  took  an  active 
part  in  the  discussions,  issued  an  order  for  the  execu- 
tion of  a  new  translation.  This  important  work  was 
entrusted  to  fifty-four  learned  and  pious  men.  They 
did  not  commence  their  labours  before  1607;  when 
forty-seven  of  the  number  originally  appointed — men 
eminent  for  piety,  and  profoundly  versed  in  the  lan- 
guages in  which  the  Bible  was  originally  written — 
entered  upon  the  translation.  The  other  seven  had 
died,  or  declined  the  task.  The  character  of  the  work 
was  defined  by  their  instructions:  "Not  a  translation 
;^]  together  new;  nor  yet  to  make  of  a  bad  one  a  good 
one;  but  to  make  a  good  one  better;  or,  of  many  good 
ones,  one  best."  When  they  assembled,  the  first  pro- 
cedure was  to  arrange  themselves  into  six  Classes  or 
Committees,  to  each  of  whom  a  portion  of  the  Bible 
was  given  for  translation.  The  Deans  of  Westmin- 
ster and  Chester  were  the  directors  of  the  two  Com- 
panies or  Committees  which  met  at  Westminster:  and 
the  King's  Professors  of  Hebrew  and  Greek  in  the 
Universities,  were  the  directors  of  the  four  Commit- 
tees which  assembled  at  Cambridge  and  Oxford. 

The  manner  in  which  the  distribution  of  the  por- 
tions was  made,  and  the  whole  completed,  is  thus 
described  by  the  learned  Selden,  who  is  styled  by  Gro- 


KING  JAMES'  BIBLE,  147 

tius  the  glory  of  the  English  nation:  "The  English 
translation  of  the  Bible,"  says  Selden  in  his  Table- 
Talk,  "is  the  best  translation  in  the  world,  and  renders 
the  sense  of  the  original  best;  taking  in  for  the  English 
translation  the  Bishops' Bible,  as  well  as  King  James', 
The  translators  in  King  James'  time  took  an  excellent 
way.  That  part  of  the  Bible  was  given  to  him  who 
was  most  excellent  in  such  a  tongue;  and  then  they 
met  together,  and  one  read  the  translation;  the  rest 
holding  in  their  hands  some  Bible,  either  of  the  learn- 
ed tongues,  or  French,  Spanish,  Italian,  <fcc.  If  they 
found  any  fault,  they  spoke;  if  not,  he  read  on." 
Such  is  the  opinion  of  Selden,  of  whom  Lord  Clar- 
endon says,  "He  was  one  whom  no  character  can  flat- 
ter, or  transmit  in  any  expressions  equal  to  hi*  merit 
and  virtue."  Bishop  Lowth  says  of  this  version, 
"The  vulgar*  translation  of  the  Bible  is  the  best  stan- 
dard of  our  language."  Similar  testimony  is  bome 
in  its  favour  by  other  eminent  English  scholars;  as 
Adam  Clarke,  Beattie,  Taylor,  Horsley,  Doddridge, 
Middleton,  Geddes,  Whittaker.  The  work  was  com- 
menced in  1607,  and  completed  and  published,  in 
1611 — some  authorities  say,  in  1613 — and  is  the  trans- 
lation of  the  Bible  now  read,  by  authority,  in  the 
Churches  of  the  Establishment  in  England:  and  is 
the  same  in  use  in  this  country  by  Protestant  denomi- 
nations, and  is  called  Kinsr  James'  Bible. 


o 


*  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  remind  the  reader  that,  by  the  word 
vulgar,  in  this  connexion,  is  not  meant,  ordinary,  mean,  low,  gross; 
but,  of,  or  pertaining  to,  the  multitude  or  many. 


148  KING  JAMES'  BIBLE. 

After  this  period,  all  other  versions  of  the  Bible 
ceased  to  be  used,  with  the  exception  of  the  Psalms, 
and  the  Epistles  and  Gospels,  in  the  Book  of  Common 
Prayer,  which  were  still  continued — the  Psalms  accord- 
ing to  the  version  of  Oranmer's  Bible;  the  Epistles 
and  Gospels  according  to  that  of  the  Bishops'  Bible — 
until  the  revision  of  the  Liturgy,  in  1661.  The 
Epistles  and  Gospels  were  then  taken  from  King 
James'  Bible;  but  the  Psalms  are  .still  retained  as 
translated  in  Cramner's  Bible. 

Dr.  Blayney  published,  at  Oxford,  in  1769,, an  edition 
of  King  James'  Bible,  which,  on  account  of  its  accu- 
racy, was  considered  the  standard  edition  until  the 
publication  of  Wood  fall's  edition — or,  as  it  is  some- 
times called,  the  edition  of  Eyre  and  Strahan — at 
London,  in  1806.  Several  important  errata  were 
discovered  in  Dr.  Blayney's  edition:  but,  it  is  said  that 
only  one  erratum  has  been  found  in  that  of  Woodfall 
of  1806.  This  is  a  very  near  approach  to  an  immacu- 
late text.  In  1820  the  General  Convention  of  the 
Protestant  Episcopal  Church  in  the  United  States  of 
America,  recommended  the  Edition  of  Eyre  and 
Strahan  to  the  ^members  of  that  Church,  -as  the  stan- 
dard edition  of  the  Bible.* 

I  have  known  very  intelligent  persons  who  supposed 
the  italics  in  King  James'  Bible  were  used  as  marks  of 
emphatic  words.  The  italics  are  designed  to  shew 
that  the  words  so  printed  are  not  found  in  the  originals 
from  which  the  version  is  made.  This  plan  appears 
to  have  been  adopted  from  the  Great  Bible,  printed  in 

*See  Home's  Introduction — fourth  edition. 


KING  JAMES'  BIBLE.  149 

1539;  in  the  text  of  which  those  parts  of  the  Latin 
version  which  are  not  found  in  the  Hebrew  or  Greek, 
are  inserted  in  a  smaller  letter.  The  Geneva  Bible 
also  contains,  inserted  in  the  text  with  another  kind  of 
letter,  every  word  that  seemed  to  be  necessary  for 
explaining  any  particular  sentence.  The  same  mode 
is  also  used  in  the  Bishops'  Bible. 

The  following  judicious  Rules,  which  prescribed  the 
manner  in  which  the  translators  were  required  by  the 
King  to  accomplish  this  most  important  work,  will 
give  the  reader  a  view  of  the  great  care  with  which 
the  translation  was  perfected: 

RULES. 

1.  The  ordinary  Bible  read  in  the  Church,  com- 
monly called  the  Bishops'  Bible,  to  be  followed,  and 
as  little  altered  as  the  original  will  permit. 

2.  The  names  of  the  prophets  and  the  holy  writers, 
with  the  other  names  in  the  text,  to  be  retained,  as 
nigh  as  may  be,  accordingly  as  they  are  vulgarly  used. 

3.  The  old  ecclesiastical  words  to  be  kept;  viz:  the 
word  "Church"  not  to  be  translated  "Congrega- 
tion," &c. 

4.  When  any  word  hath  divers  significations,  that 
to  be  kept  which  hath  been  most  commonly  used  by 
the  most  eminent  Fathers;  being  agreeable  to  the  pro- 
priety of  the  place,  and  the  analogy  of  the  faith. 

5.  The  division  of  the  chapters  to  be  altered,  either 
not  at  all,  or  as  little  as  may  be,  if  necessity  so 
requires. 

6.  No  marginal  notes  at  all  to  be  affixed,  but  only 
for  the  explanation  of  the  Hebrew  or  Greek  words, 


150  KING  JAMES'  BIBLE. 

which   cannot,  without  some   circumlocution,  be  so 
briefly  and  fitly  expressed  in  the  text. 

7.  Such  quotations  of  places  to  be  marginally  set 
down,  as  shall  serve  for  the  fit  references  of  one 
scripture  to  another. 

8.  Every  particular  man  of  each  Company  to  take 
the  same  chapter,  or  chapters;  and  having  translated, 
or  amended  them  severally  by  himself,  where  he  think- 
eth  good,  all  to  meet  together,  confer  on  what  they 
have  done,  and  agree  on  their  parts  what  shall  stand. 

9.  As  any  one  Company  hath  despatched  any  one 
book  in  this  manner,  they  shall  send  it  to  the  rest,  to 
be  considered  of,  seriously  and  judiciously;  for  his 
Majesty  is  very  careful  in  this  point. 

10.  If  any  Company,  upon  the  review  of  the  book 
so  sent,  shall  doubt,  or  differ  upon  any  places,  to  send 
them  word  thereof,  note  the  places,  and — there- withal 
send  their  reasons;  to  which,  if  they  consent  not,  the 
difference  to  be  compounded  at  the  general  meeting, 
which  is  to  be  of  the  chief  persons  of  each  Company, 
at  the  end  of  the  work. 

11.  When  any  place  of  special  obscurity  is  doubted 
of,  letters  to  be  directed,  by  authority,  to  send  to  any 
learned  man  in  the  land  for  his  judgement  of  such  a 
place. 

12.  Letters  to  be  sent  from  every  Bishop  to  the 
rest  of  his  clergy,  admonishing  them  of  this  translation 
in  hand,  and  to  move  and  charge  as  many  as,  being 
skilful  in  the  tongues,  have  taken  pains  in  that  kind, 
to  send  their  particular  observations  to  the  Company, 
either  at  Westminster,  Cambridge,  or  Oxford,  accord- 


KING  JAMES'  BIBLE.  151 

ing  as  it  was  directed  before  in  the  King's  letter  to  the 
Archbishop. 

13.  The  directors  in  each  Company  to  be  the 
Deans  of  Westminster  and  Chester,  for  the  two  Com- 
panies at  Westminster:  and  the  King's  Professors  in 
the  Hebrew  and  Greek,  in  the  two  Universities. 

14.  The  following  translations  to  be  used,  when 
they  agree  better  with  the  text  than  the  Bishop's  Bible; 
viz:  Tyndal's,  Matthew's,  Coverdale's,  Whitchurch's, 
Geneva. 

15.  Besides  the  said  directors  before  mentioned, 
three  or  four  of  the  most  grave  and  ancient  divines  in 
either  of  the  Universities,  not  employed  in  translating,  to 
be  assigned  by  the  Yice- Chancellor,  upon  conference 
with  the  rest  of  the  heads,  to  be  overseers  of  the  trans- 
lation, as  well  Hebrew  as  Greek,  for  the  better  obser- 
vation of  the  fourth  Rule  above  specified. 

Such  is  a  condensed  account — designed  for  the  use 
of  the  general  reader,  not  for  that  of  the  biblical 
scholar — of  King  James'  Bible,  which,  for  two  hun- 
dred and  thirty -one  years,  has,  for  its  fidelity,  literary 
excellence,  and  perspicuity,  been  so  highly  esteemed 
by  Christians  in  all  parts  of  the  world  where  the 
English  language  is  read-  It  has  been  asserted,  as  a 
very  remarkable  fact,  that,  notwithstanding  the  nume- 
rous versions  of  the  Scriptures  which,  during  so  many 
centuries,  have  been  made  by  scholars,  no  translations 
but  those  known  as  the  great  Germanic  or  Luther's 
Bible — which,  with  the  aid  of  Melancthon  and  other 
eminent  scholars,  Luther  translated  from  the  original 
Hebrew  and  Greek,  and  published  in  1530 — and  King 


152  KING  JAMES'  BIBLE. 

James'  Bible,  have  been  regarded  as  classics  of  the 
language  in  which  the  versions  are  made. 

It  will  not  be  contended  that  this  translation  is  per- 
fect. Perfection  does  not  belong  to  human  works.  A 
distinguished  biblical  scholar  of  Baltimore  pointed  out 
to  me  what  he  thinks  is  an  incorrect  translation  in  II 
Cor.  iii.  18.  He  says,  "as  by  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord," 
should  be  "as  by  the  Lord  the  Spirit" — certainly  a 
stronger  mode  of  expression  in  confirmation  of  the 
doctrine  of  the  Holy  Trinity.  The  words  in  the 
Greek  are  oltto  Kt^iou  ^vsufxeeTo?,  which — the  preposi- 
tion dvo  governing  the  genitive  case — may  mean,  by 
the  Spirit  of  the  Lord;  or,  by  the  Lord  the  Spirit.  The 
true  translation  will  he  determined  by  ascertaining 
which  word — both  being  in  the  genitive  case — is  pro- 
perly governed  by  the  preposition.  If  the  first  letter 
of  the  word  nrvsviLurog  were  the  Greek  capital  n — 
which  is  not  the  fact  in  our  editions — the  argument 
might  be  stronger.  The  letter  is  a  capital  in  our 
English  version,  the  Latin  Vulgate,  and  the  French 
version;  viz:  by  the  Spi?*it  of  the  Lord — a  Domini 
Spiritu — par  V Esprit  du  Seigneur.  Whether  the 
letter  be  small,  or  a  capital,  in  the  original  Greek,  I  do 
not  know.  But  the  discussion  of  this  question  belongs 
to  the  biblical  scholar. 

We  should  touch  with  great  caution  the  Book  which 
has,  for  more  than  two  centuries,  been  the  rule  of  faith 
and  practice  to  the  Protestant  Christian  who  reads  the 
English  language.     In  this  instance,  I  had 

" rather  bear  those  ills  we  have, 


Than  fly  to  others  that  we  know  not  of? 


KING  JAMES'  BIBLE.  153 

I  hope  it  will  be  long — very  long — before  such  men 
as  Bellamy  and  B urges  will  be  able  to  convince  that 
portion  of  the  Protestant  Christian  world  which  reads 
the  English  language,  that  the  "Reasons  in  favour  of 
a  New  Translation  of  the  Scriptures/'  are  so  urgent  as 
to  require  that  a  new  version  should  be  made. 


14 


ENGLAND  IN  1841. 


The  following  article  is  taken  from  a  London  paper: 
"The  Whig  Government.  Many  persons  sup- 
pose the  country,  in  dismissing  the  late  government 
from  the  public  service,  has  taken  leave  of  them  for- 
ever. By  an  act  passed  4  and  5  W.  IV,  c.  24,  the 
people  pay  the  following  very  nice  snug  retiring  pen- 
sions upon  the  present  quarterly  deficient  Consolidated 
Fund: 

Lord  Cottenham         .....      ^5,000 

Lord  Melbourne 2,000 

T.  Baring,  Esq.  ....  2,000 
Lord  J.  Russell  .....  2,000 
Earl  Minto         .  2,000 

Sir  J.  G.  Hobhouse  ,  .  ,  .  2,000 
Right  Hon.  H.  Labouchere  .  .  2,000 
Lord  Morpeth  .....  1,400 
Two  Joint  Secretaries  of  the  Treasury  2,800 
Secretary  to  the  Admiralty  .  .  .  1,400 
T.  B.  Macaulay          .  1,400 

Under  Secretary  of  State,  Clerk  of  the  Ord- 
nance, Second  Secretary  of  the  Admi- 
ralty, Secretary  of  the  Indian  Board, 
each  .£1,000 4,000." 


J56  ENGLAND  IN  1841. 

It  is  thus  seen  that  the  members  of  the  late  adminis- 
tration of  public  affairs,  on  retiring  from  office,  receive 
pensions  to  the  amount  of  twenty-eight  thousand 
pounds  sterling,  paid  by  taxes  imposed  on  the  people 
of  England.  A  ministry,  turned  out  of  office  by  a 
large  majority,  retire  on  pensions  exceeding,  by  eighteen 
thousand  dollars,  twice  the  amount  paid  annually  to 
the  President  of  the  United  States  and  all  the  Heads 
of  Departments!  This  example  affords  an  illustration 
that  the  word  pension  has  been  properly  denned,  An 
allowance  made  to  any  one  without  an  equivalent. 

This  is  by  no  means  a  solitary  case  in  the  history  of 
England.  Officers  of  the  Civil  Government,  Judges, 
Governors  of  dependencies,  Commanders  of  armies, 
and  foreign  Ambassadors,  when  they  retire  from  posi- 
tions where  they  were  well  remunerated  for  their  ser- 
vices, receive  pensions  which  are  paid  by  a  tax-ridden 
population.  This  is  occurring  annually  in  a  country 
whose  public  debt  is  four  thousand  millions  of  dollars: 
for  the  payment  of  the  interest  on  which,  about  one 
hundred  and  twenty -jive  millions  of  dollars  are  re- 
quired. Why  is  not  the  pension  system  of  England 
abolished;  or  the  money  used  as  a  fund  to  aid  in  paying 
this  enormous  debt?  This  debt  will  never  be  paid.  It 
will  continue  to  accumulate  until  the  occurrence  of 
some  mighty  convulsion,  when  the  people  will  arise  in 
their  majesty  and  abolish  the  system  by  which  they 
have  been  oppressed:  when  oceans  of  blood  drawn  by 
gleaming  swords,  will,  like  the  deluge  of  Deucalion, 
overwhelm  the  existing  privileged  orders  in  one  uni- 
versal ruin.     The  sword  can  sometimes  pay  off  debts, 


ENGLAND  IN  1841.  157 

as  well  as  sever  Gordian  knots.  Let  no  one  suppose 
I  advocate  such  a  payment  of  the  national  debt  of 
England.  I  know  how  that  debt  has  accumulated: 
sometimes  in  attempts  at  oppression,  as  in  the  two 
American  wars;  by  the  first  of  which  it  was  increased 
^121,000,000:  but  often  in  the  defence  of  liberty 
against  all-grasping  ambition;  as  in  the  great  contest  of 
the  present  century,  which,  from  1T93,  to  1817,  added 
to  the  debt  ^609,000,000.  I  am  only  stating  what 
may  occur.  Deucalion  was  ordered  by  the  oracle  of 
Themis  to  repair  the  effects  of  the  deluge  by  throwing 
behind  him  the  bones  of  his  grand-mother.  The 
people  of  a  country  over  which  rolling  floods  of  revo- 
lution shall  have  passed,  arid  in  which  earthquakes 
shall  have  occurred— more  desolating  than  that  which 
overwhelmed  the  beautiful  valley  of  Goldau — may 
adopt  a  plan  which  would  have  some  analogy  to  that 
of  Deucalion. 

As  an  illustration  of  the  manner  in  which  the  no- 
bility of  England  are  often  pampered  by  the  lavish 
distribution  of  wealth  drawn  from  the  public  coffers, 
look  at  the  case  of  ^a  great  man  of  the  present  day. 
Do  not  suppose  I  would  detract  from  the  reputation  of 
this  great  soldier  and  benefactor  of  the  world.  He 
contended  gloriously  for  his  country  in  India,  and  for 
the  world  in  the  Peninsula  and  at  Waterloo;  and  has 
just  claims  to  the  gratitude  of  his  own  nation,  and  the 
homage  of  the  friends  of  freedom  of  every  land.  He 
opposed  his  genius  to  the  genius  of  the  modern  Scourge 
of  Nations,  and  the  sceptre  was  wrested  from  the  hands 
of  fcim  who  was  controlled  by  no  law  but  his  own  lust 
14* 


15S  ENGLAND  IN  1841. 

of  power.  He  rolled  back  the  mighty  flood  which 
threatened  to  sweep  liberty  from  Continental  and 
Insular  Europe;  and,  after  it  had  accomplished  that 
work  of  desolation,  would  have  passed  the  Ural  Moun- 
tains, overwhelming  the  kingdoms  of  Sapor,  Timour, 
and  Zingis.  Allowing  then,  in  the  largest  sense,  the 
obligations  of  England  to  the  occupant  of  Apsley 
House,  was  the  gift  of  great  possessions  the  appro- 
priate reward  for  his  great  services?  Would  it  not  have 
been  more  honourable  for  him  to  have  been  content 
with  the  glory  he  acquired  by  the  great  deeds  he  had 
accomplished  for  England  and  the  world?  Was  it  in 
keeping  thus  to  increase  the  debt  of  the  country,  and 
the  taxes  of  the  people?  Cincinnatus  has  come  down 
to  posterity  with  a  name  more  illustrious  because, 
having  delivered  Rome,  he  returned  to  the  plough 
which  he  had  left  to  lead  her  armies,  than  if  his  coun- 
try had  bestowed  upon  him  splendid  palaces  and 
extensive  domains.  Contrast  the  position  of  Wash- 
ington with  that  of  Wellington.  No  one  will  deny 
that  he  rendered  equally  important  services  to  his  coun- 
try and  the  world.  For  the  one,  he  established  her 
independence  in  defiance  of  the  efforts  of  her  mighty 
oppressor:  and  America  produced  the  first  written  con- 
stitution the  world  had  ever  known,  proclaiming  the 
equality  of  man,  liberty  of  speech,  of  the  press,  and 
of  conscience;  and  thus  constructed  a  model -govern- 
ment which,  by  the  force  of  example,  has  caused  long 
established  thrones  to  rock  to  their  foundations,  and 
will  ultimately  lead  to  the  establishment  of  universal 
freedom.     When  his  work  was  accomplished,  he  re- 


ENGLAND  IN  1841.  159 

signed  the  power  which  he  might  have  employed  for 
the  subversion  of  the  fabric  he  had  reared;  when,  in 
imitation  of  other  soldiers,  he  might  have  decorated  his 
brow  with  an  imperial  crown.  When  the  temptation 
was  presented  to  him  he  put  it  aside,  but  not  with  the 
mock-moderation  of  Ceesar;  and  he  refused  to  receive 
payment  for  the  time  employed  in  such  inestimable 
services.  Centuries  hence  the  name  of  Washington 
will  be  pronounced  with  reverence  wherever  freedom 
shall  live;  when,  perhaps,  that  of  Wellington  will  Only 
be  found  on  the  page  of  history. 

The  necessity  for  supporting  the  Aristocracy  is,  I 
know,  the  cause  of  the  extensive  pension  system  of 
England.  And,  in  further  support  of  the  same  part  of 
their  social  system,  whenever  a  Commoner  performs 
great  services,  he  is  created  an  Earl,  or  a  Lord,  or  a 
Knight;  as  if  it  were  an  admitted  truth  that  greatness 
should  not  exist  beyond  the  "charmed  circle"  of  the 
nobility.  And  thus  the  influence  of  distinguished 
men  is  enlisted  to  support  the  existence  of  an  order  to 
which  themselves  belong.  Was  it  ever  designed  by 
the  Great  Father  of  us  all,  that  a  class  of  men,  in  any 
country  should,  century  after  century,  continue, 
"booted  and  spurred,  to  ride  over  the  people,  by  the 
grace  of  God?"  And  what,  as  a  mass,  is  this  boasted 
Aristocracy  of  Europe?  I  will  answer  in  the  words  of 
General  Foy,  in  the  French  Chamber:  "Aristocracy  in 
the  19th  century,  is  the  league,  the  coalition,  of  those 
who  wish  to  consume  without  producing,  live  without 
working,  occupy  all  public  places  without  being  com- 
petent to  fill  them;  seize  upon  all  honours  without 
meriting  them;  that  is  Aristocracy." 


160  ENGLAND  IN   1841. 

If  any  one  wish  to  know  the  class  of  men  who 
are  often  received  into  the  Aristocracy  by  the  favour  of 
their  King,  and  on  whom  the  broad  acres  and  precious 
treasures  of  England  are  bestowed,  he  has  only  to 
read  the  history  of  the  reigns  of  Charles  II.  and 
William  IV.  The  "Great  Commoner"  was  a  nobler 
distinction  for  William  Pitt  than  any  title  his  King 
could  have  conferred;  and  Lord  Brougham  manifested 
a  momentary  contempt  of  the  peerage,  when  he  once 
said  to  the  House  of  Lords  that  he  wished  they  would 
pass  an  act  to  unpeer  him,  that  he  might  resume  his 
professional  pursuits  in  Westminster  Hall — an  employ- 
ment which  was  not  consistent  with  aristocratic  etiquette, 
or  as  long  as  he  continued  a  member  of  their  House. 

This  state  of  the  social  system  of  England  will  not 
always  continue  to  exist.  The  public  mind  is  now, 
and  has  for  some  time  been,  intensely  directed  to  the 
inquiry,  whether  the  existence  of  such  privileged 
orders  be  consistent  with  the  belief,  that  all  men  are 
born  equal  and  free:  whether  individual  merit  be  not 
the  only  just  foundation  for  distinctions  in  society? 
The  progress  of  such  inquiry  cannot  be  arrested, 
except  by  a  despotism  like  that  which  holds  Poland  in 
chains,  and  crushes  all  the  noble  aspirations  of  our 
nature  beneath  the  foot  of  its  own  iron  power.  Such  a 
despotism  England  is  not  destined  to  endure.  The 
time  may  come  when  a  fire — like  that  in  our  Western 
prairies — will  be  kindled  in  England,  which  will  burn 
from  the  Cheviot  Hills  to  the  Straits  of  Dover,  and  by 
whose  mighty  raging  King  and  Noble  may  alike  be 
consumed.     When  Samson  awakes  to  a  sense  of  his 


ENGLAND  IN  1841.  161 

condition,  the  cords  by  which  he  is  bound  are  sundered 
as  easily  as  the  flax  is  burned  by  the  flame. 

Why  do  the  politicians  and  political  writers  of 
England  continually  predict  the  downfall  of  our  institu- 
tions? "The  wish  is  father  to  the  thought."  Why  do 
they  so  eagerly  seize  an  opportunity  to  comment  on 
every  instance  of  lynch-law — of  the  use  of  the 
Bowie  knife — of  quarrels  in  our  legislative  bodies? 
Are  there  not  wicked  men,  and  men  of  ungoverned 
tempers,  in  every  country?  Why  do  they  interfere 
with  our  social  institutions?  A  writer,  in  a  late  article 
in  the  leading  journal  of  Europe — the  court-journal  of 
England — in  case  of  war  between  the  two  countries, 
advocates  the  attempt  to  array  the  interests  of  the 
North  against  those  of  the  South.  What  right  have 
Englishmen  to  wage  a  war  of  extermination  against 
the  accidents  of  birth?  They  contend  for  hereditary 
titles  and  privileges — distinctions  derived  from  birth, 
and,  with  few  exceptions,  unattainable  by  those  not 
born  to  them:  and  on  these  their  social  and  civil  insti- 
tutions are  based.  That  portion  of  our  population  is 
more  happy — better  fed  and  clothed — than  millions  of 
the  subjects  of  that  "Power,  which  has  dotted  over  the 
surface  of  the  whole  globe  with  her  possessions  and 
military  posts;  whose  morning  drum-beat,  following 
the  sun,  and  keeping  company  with  the  hours,  daily 
circles  the  earth  with  one  unbroken  strain  of  the 
martial  airs  of  England." 

The  public  men  of  England  have  sufficient  to 
occupy  them  in  preserving  their  own  institutions. 
The  operation  of  the  Com  Laws  has  intensely  excited 
the  public  mind.     It  is  stated  in  English  papers,  that 


162  EGLAND  IN  1841. 

the  city  of  London  pays  daily  ^20,000  more  for  bread , 
than  she  would  have  to  pay  if  the  Corn  Laws  did  not 
exist.  Meetings  of  the  people  in  primary  assemblies 
are  held,  resolutions  adopted,  and  petitions  and  remon- 
strances addressed  to  the  Queen  and  to  Parliament  for 
their  repeal.  If  the  constitutional  remonstrances  of 
the  people  be  disregarded,  they  have  the  power  to 
redress  their  wrongs,  as  they  have  done  in  other  days. 
Charles  I.  and  James  II.  experienced  the  efficacy  of 
that  mode  of  redress.  The  people  of  England  will 
not  submit  to  the  continued  operation  of  a  system  by 
which  it  is  said,  on  high  authority,  that  twenty  thous- 
and of  the  population  of  Great  Britain  are  annually 
hurried  to  premature  death,  and  four  hundred  thousand 
are  now  starving  in  one  manufacturing  district:  a  sys- 
tem designed,  at  the  expense  of  starving  thousands,*  to 

*  The  following  details,  which  were  presented  at  a  "Meeting  of 
the  Dissenting  Ministers  of  London,"  held  on  the  24th  of  June, 
1842,  shew  the  distress  which  continues  to  prevail  in  England  and 
Scotland: 

"In  Wigan,  many  families  remain  in  bed  during  the  day  because 
hunger  is  less  intolerable  when  the  sufferer  is  in  a  recumbent  posi- 
tion. In  Accrington,  in  Lancashire,  out  of  a  population  of  nine 
thousand  persons,  not  more  than  one  hundred  are  fully  employed. 
Families  are  known  to  have  subsisted  many  days  on  boiled  nettles, 
with  a  little  meal  sprinkled  upon  them.  In  Marsden,  near  Burnley, 
out  of  five  thousand  persons,  two  thousand  have  become  paupers, 
and  most  of  the  remaining  three  thousand  are  on  the  verge  of  pau- 
perism.    The  poor's-rate  is  one  shilling  in  the  pound  per  month. 

"Mr.  Thompson  fearlessly  stated  that  there  were  at  this  moment 
millions  who  were  in  danger  of  perishing  from  absolute  hunger. 
There  was  a  daily  diminishing  respect  for  the  laws  and  constitution 
of  the  country — a  daily  diminishing  regard  for  the  rights  of  pro- 
perty— and  a  growing  feeling  of  despair.  He  passed  through  Stock- 
port lately;  every  second  house  was  closed.    He  also  visited  Bol- 


ENGLAND   IN  1841.  163 

support  the  landed  interests,  a  great  portion  of  which 
exists  with  the  Aristocracy.  The  United  States  could 
supply  with  corn  the  starving  artisans  of  Birmingham, 
Sheffield,  and  other  manufacturing  districts  of  Great 
Britain.  The  great  Yalley  of  the  Mississippi — extend- 
ing from  the  Alleghanies  to  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and 

ton,  and  he  was  accompanied  by  a  respected  friend  of  his,  who  was 
appointed  to  collect  correct  statistics  of  that  town.  His  friend  said 
he  would  take  him  to  none  of  the  suffering  people  but  those  who 
were  known  to  be  deserving.  In  the  whole  of  their  peregrinations, 
they  did  not  find  a  single  blanket.  They  only  found  any  thing  in 
the  shape  of  food  in  two  of  the  dwellings.  The  people  would  not 
touch  it  until  the  middle  of  the  day,  that  they  might  put  off  the 
cravings  of  hunger  as  long  as  possible.  They  found  many  of  them 
lying  on  the  sacking;  beds  there  were  none.  Young  girls,  who,  a 
few  months  ago,  cheerfully  rose  in  the  morning  to  go  to  the  facto- 
ries, were,  with  the  father,  mother,  grandfather,  and  sometimes 
grandmother,  all  starving  together,  huddled  up  in  one  corner  of  the 
room.  He  said  to  them,  'Why  do  you  lie  here?'  and  they  answered, 
'We  are  less  afflicted  with  hunger  when  we  lie  down.'  This  was 
the  state  of  Bolton;  yet  he  did  not  hear  an  expression  of  murmuring 
in  one  of  them,  or  any  allusion,  of  a  reprehensible  kind,  to  obtain 
relief.  He  went  to  Wigan,  and  he  had  not  been  in  the  town  five  mi- 
nutes before  the  Coroner  sent  him  some  depositions  which  he  had 
taken  at  an  inquest  held  on  the  body  of  a  man  who  had  died  of  abso- 
lute starvation.  The  doctors  had  declared  their  belief  that  he  had  died 
of  hunger;  and,  while  he  was  reading  these  depositions,  a  messen- 
ger came  from  a  neighbouring  village,  and  said  that  a  man  had  just 
died  of  absolute  hunger,  for  he  was  seen  the  day  before  gnawing  the 
grass,  scanty  as  it  was,  in  the  fields  around.  He — Mr.  Thompson — 
had  been  in  Glasgow,  and  was  informed  by  a  most  respectable  and 
worthy  individual,  that  there  were  in  that  city  thousands  dying  of 
hunger.  Many  of  the  people  were  patiently  waiting  for  death. 
He  had  also  visited  Paisley — of  that  they  had  heard  enough.  He 
had  visited  Huddersfield  also,  and  from  information  he  derived  from 
various  sources,  public  and  private,  he  came  to  the  conclusion  that 
he  was  surrounded  by  a  perishing  population." 


164  ENGLAND  IN  1841. 

from  the  Lakes  to  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  comprising 
more  than  two-thirds  of  the  land  of  the  United  States, 
and  one  twenty-eighth  of  that  of  the  globe — has  grain- 
growing  regions  sufficient  to  make  her  what  the 
Northern  coast  of  Africa  was  in  the  days  of  Roman 
grandeur — the  granary  of  the  world.  America  has 
abundance  of  corn;  Great  Britain  has  abundance  of 
manufacturing  labour;  and  we  can  give  corn  for  labour. 
But,  the  operation  of  the  Corn  Laws  paralyses  the 
arm  of  the  English  manufacturer,  and  defeats  that 
wise  and  merciful  ordinance  of  his  Creator,  In  the 
sweat  of  thy  face  shalt  thou  eat  bread.  When  pressed 
by  famine,  Jacob  sent  his  sons  into  Egypt  to  buy  corn, 
"That  we  may  live  and  not  die."  But  England — 
more  cruel  than  Pharaoh — refuses  to  let  her  starving 
subjects  buy  the  corn  which  the  bountiful  Earth  gives 
from  her  fruitful  bosom  for  her  hungry  children.  This 
may  be  called  protection  of  her  agricultural  interests. 
But  it  is  not  protection  for  encouragement  and  the 
public  good:  it  is  protection  attended  with  starvation 
and  death.  Where — let  me  ask,  in  contemplation  of 
such  instances  of  suffering  thousands — Where  is  the 
truth  of  the  boast  of  Englishmen,  that,  "The  spirit  of 
British  law  makes  liberty  commensurate  with,  and 
inseparable  from,  British  soil:  it  proclaims  even  to  the 
stranger  and  the  sojourner,  the  moment  he  sets  his  foot 
upon  British  earth,  that  the  ground  on  which  he  treads 
is  holy,  and  consecrated  by  the  genius  of  Universal 
Emancipation?" 

What  is  the  position  of  England,  at  this  time,  in 
relation  to  Scotland?     She  is  carrying  on  a  contest 


ENGLAND  IN  1841.  165 

with  the  Church  of  Scotland  for  the  maintenance  of  a 
prerogative  which  Scotchmen  will  never  admit  until 
there  is  no  longer  an  arm  to  draw  a  sword.  The 
Church  of  Scotland  declares,  as  a  fundamental  princi- 
ple of  her  Ecclesiastical  Constitution,  "That  no  pastor 
shall  be  intruded  into  any  parish  contrary  to  the  will 
of  the  congregation;  and  that  this  Church,  as  every 
Church  of  Christ,  is  free  from  secular  control  in  the 
exercise  of  those  powers  of  spiritual  government  and 
discipline  which  she  has  received  from  her  great  Head 
— powers  which  some  are  now  attempting  violently  to 
wrest  from  her,  because  they  have  been  used  in 
defence  of  the  rights  of  the  Christian  people." 

She  further  declares,  "That  any  attempt  to  have  it 
established,  as  a  fundamental  principle,  that  the  Civil 
Courts  have  jurisdiction  in  every  case  in  which  those 
Courts  think  fit  to  declare  that  temporal  interests  are  in 
any  way  involved,  is  subversive  of  the  government 
which  Christ  has  appointed  in  his  Church,  and  in 
direct  opposition  to  the  principles  on  which  the  present 
Ecclesiastical  Constitution,  ratified  by  the  statutes  of 
the  realm,  is  founded." 

These  resolutions  are  thus  promulgated  because  the 
patrons  of  the  Strathbogie  parishes — a  patronage  which 
is  another  of  the  means  to  support  the  Aristocracy 
which  grasps  even  the  Church — had  intruded  minis- 
ters against  the  wishes  of  the  congregations.  The 
authorities  of  the  Church  deposed  the  clergymen. 
They  appealed  to  the  Civil  Courts,  and  hence  the  con- 
test which  has  so  intensely  agitated  Scotland.  If  the 
English  ministry  persist  in  their  claims,  a  power  which 
15 


166  ENGLAND  IN  1841. 

the  Queen  of  Scots  feared  in  John  Knox  alone,  more 
than  an  army  of  ten  thousand  men — over  whose  grave 
the  eulogy  was  pronounced,  Here  lies  one  who  never 
feared  the  face  of  man — will  aid  the  oppressed.  The 
Presbyterians  of  Ireland,*  the  Independents  of  Eng- 

*The  following  sketch,-  from  an  address  by  James  Gibson,  Esq. 
of  Dublin,  delivered  on  the  10th  of  June,  1842,  before  the  Bi-Cen- 
tenary  meeting  in  Dublin,  assembled  for  the  purpose  of  commemo- 
rating the  organization  and  establishment  of  the  Presbyterian  Church 
in  Ireland,  will  not,  as  an  historical  record,  be  without  interest  to 
the  reader: 

"In  the  course  of  a  few  years,  from  about  the  year  1609,  there 
arrived  in  the  North  a  great  number  of  families  from  Scotland,  and, 
owing  to  the  attempts  made  to  introduce  Prelacy  into  that  country, 
several  ministers  who  were  exposed  to  persecution  there,  on  account 
of  their  non-conformity,  came  over  to  Ireland,  and  found  a  tempo- 
rary refuge  in  the  remoteness  of  the  infant  settlement.  The  Scots 
ministers  for  some  time,  during  the  reign  of  James,  enjoyed  undis- 
turbed opportunity  of  labouring  in  their  office.  The  effects  of  their 
ministration  were  soon  apparent:  and  in  the  early  years  of  Charles, 
there  appears  to  have  sprung  up  under  their  instrumentality  the 
most  remarkable  revival  of  religion,  as  if  in  token  of  the  Divine 
approval  of  their  efforts.  Wheri  Charles  succeeded  to  the  throne, 
his  attention  was  drawn  to  the  rising  importance  of  the  Scots  in 
Ulster,  and  by  the  counsel  of  Laud,  aided  by  Wentworth,  measures 
were  soon  taken  in  Ireland  to  effect  that  conformity  which  was  the 
ill-fated  project  of  that  monarch's  unfortunate  reign.  Four  of  the 
most  eminent  ministers  were  shortly  silenced — Blair,  Livingston, 
Dunbar,  and  Welsh.  The  thirty-nine  Articles  of  the  Church  of 
England  were  adopted  by  the  Irish  Church,  and,  after  a  hopeless 
struggle  with  Leslie,  Bishop  of  Down,  a  number  of  the  Presbyterian 
clergy,  and  about  one  hundred  and  forty  of  the  laity,  determined  to 
abandon  the  country,  and  emigrate  to  New  England.  In  Scotland, 
the  affairs  of  the  Church  had  at  the  same  time  reached  a  crisis.  By 
attempting  to  introduce  the  Canons  and  Book  of  Common  Prayer, 
the  King  had  driven  the  people  again  to  revive  the  Covenant  of 
1581,  and,  kindling  with  the  deepest  enthusiasm,  all  Scotland  bound 


ENGLAND  IN  1341.  167 

land,  have  expressed  strong  sympathies  for  the  Church 
of  Scotland,  and,  in  case  of  extremities,  will,  on  com- 

itself  by  solemn  obligation  to  resist  the  imposition.  The  Presby- 
terians of  Ireland  were  known  to  share  the  feelings  of  their 
countrymen,  and  Wentworth,  apprehensive  of  its  manifestation,  de- 
termined to  repress  it  by  an  act  of  bold  but  characteristic  policy. 
He  issued  a  proclamation  commanding  all  above  sixteen  years  of 
age  to  take  an  oath,  by  which  they  were  to  bind  themselves  not  to 
'protest  against  any  of  the  King's  royal  commands,  but  submit 
themselves  in  all  due  obedience  thereunto,'  and  to  abjure  all  cove- 
nants and  oaths  contrary  to  the  tenor  of  this  engagement.  This 
oath  they  could  not  take  without  violating  conscience,  and  they  re- 
fused compliance  with  the  unjust  demand;  and  to  their  refusal  thus 
to  swear,  and  to  the  principle  which  that  refusal  involved — the  same 
principle  as  that  which  was  affirmed  in  the  Solemn  League  and 
Covenant,  the  right  of  resistance  to  arbitrary  power  and  to  compul- 
sory enforcement  of  religious  belief — were  those  countries  indebted 
for  all  that  civil  and  religious  liberty  which  is  now  the  boasted 
treasure  of  the  British  Constitution.  Throughout  Ulster,  this  black 
©ath,  as  it  was  called,  was  rigorously  enforced;  but,  rather  than  take 
it,  multitudes  submitted  to  fine,  imprisonment,  and  voluntary  exile. 
The  execution  of  Strafford,  which  took  place  soon  after  this  daring 
act,  suspended  their  trouble;  and,  as  the  English  Parliament  was 
chiefly  composed  of  members  favourable  to  the  Presbyterian  in- 
terest, their  hopes  began  to  brighten  and  revive.  In  the  midst,  how- 
ever, of  these  gladsome  anticipations,  a  storm  arose  in  another 
quarter,  with  rage  no  less  fearful,  and  nearly  swept  them  all  away 
before  it.  The  rebellion  of  1641  broke  out,  and,  though  providen- 
tially discovered  before  its  object  was  attained,  yet  scenes  of  mas- 
sacre and  pillage  followed  which  live  even  yet  in  traditionary 
recollection,  and  perpetuate  the  feelings  of  deadly  animosity  and 
distrust  which  they  first  engendered.  Yet  even  that  event  was  over- 
ruled; the  previous  tyranny  of  Wentworth  had  forced  the  ministers 
to  flee  to  Scotland,  where  they  were  afterwards  restored  to  their 
people.  The  rebellion  introduced  a  Scottish  army  into  Ulster,  and, 
with  its  regiments,  a  band  of  chaplains — Scottish  ministers — who^ 
on  the  first  cessation  of  hostilities,  erected  elderships  in  their  several 
regiments;  and,,  having  established  the  discipline  of  the  Church  of 


158  ENGLAND  IN  1841. 

mon  principles,  make  it  a  common  cause.  Who  are 
the  men  against  whom  the  ministry  declares  this  war 

Scotland,  after  the  model  of  its  best  days,  held  the  first  meeting  of 
Presbytery,  regularly  constituted,  that  ever  took  place  in  Ireland, 
on  that  same  day  two  hundred  years  ago — on  Friday,  10th  June, 
1642.'* 

In  1642,  the  Irish  Presbyterian  Church  consisted  of  one  Presby- 
tery, and  a  few  ministers.  In  June,  1842,  it  numbered  thirty-three 
Presbyteries,  four  hundred  and  eighty-six  ministers,  and  700,000 
Presbyterians. 

In  continuation  of  this  historical  record,  some  statements — which 
will  not  be  without  interest — in  relation  to  the  Presbyterian  Church 
in  various  parts  of  the  world,  are  added.  They  are  part  of  an  ad- 
dress delivered  by  Mr.  Wm.  Kirkpatrick,  at  the  same  Bi-Centenary 
meeting:  "In  Scotland,  the  Established  Church,  which  is  Presby- 
terian, numbers  nearly  1300  congregations.  In  addition,  there  are 
500  congregations  of  Dissenters  who  are  Presbyterians.  In  England 
there  are  considerably  above  one  hundred  congregations;  at  one  time 
they  were  far  more  numerous;  but  owing,  in  a  great  measure,  to 
their  disuse  of  the  peculiarites  of  the  system  of  elders,  sessions,  and 
presbyteries,  they  diminished  in  number,  in  purity  of  doctrine,  and 
in  influence.  Recently  a  great  revival  has  taken  place:  their  ses- 
sions, presbyteries,  and  synods  have  been  re-organized;  and,  instead 
of  hanging,  as  hitherto,  a  mere  appendage  to  the  Church  of  Scotland, 
they  are  about  to  be  constituted  the  Presbyterian  Church  in  England. 
At  their  meeting  of  Synod,  held  a  few  weeks  ago,  it  was  proposed 
to  enter  correspondence  and  communion  with  the  Welsh  Calvinistic 
Methodists,  whose  doctrines  were  identical,  and  whose  government 
bore  a  close  affinity  with  their  own.  These  number  upwards  of 
500  congregations.  In  Holland  there  is  a  Presbyterian  Church,  with 
1400  ministers,  and  a  constitution  exactly  similar  to  that  of  the 
Church  of  Scotland.  In  France  there  are  at  least  400  congrega- 
tions which  are  Presbyterian — at  one  time  they  amounted  to  2000, 
but  were  reduced  to  their  present  number  by  the  fearful  and  pro- 
longed persecution  by  which  upwards  of  a  million  of  its  members 
were  driven  from  the  kingdom,  and  of  which  they  had  a  memorial 
in  the  French  Church,  still  standing  in  this  city,  and  in  the  many 
families  of  respectability  still  existing  among  them,  descended  from 


ENGLAND  IN  1841.  169 

of  prerogative?  Lord  Brougham,  in  a  speech  delivered 
some  time  since  in  the  House  of  Lords,  called  them, 
"A  body  of  men  to  be  held  in  lasting  veneration  for  the 
unshaken  fortitude  with  which,  in  all  times,  they  have 
maintained  their  attachment  to  civil  liberty:  men  to 
whose  ancestors  England  will  ever  acknowledge  a 
boundless  debt  of  gratitude,  as  long  as  freedom  is  prized 
among  us.  They,  with  the  zeal  of  martyrs,  the  purity 
of  the  early  Christians,  the  skill  and  courage  of  the 
most  renowned  warriors,  obtained  for  England  the  free 
Constitution  she  now  enjoys."  And,  of  the  same 
men,  Hume  the  historian,  with  all  his  decided  impres- 
sions in  favour  of  absolute  monarchy,  says,  "The  pre- 
cious spark  of  liberty  had  been  kindled,  and  was 
preserved,  by  the  Puritans  alone;  and  it  is  to  this  sect 

the  French  refugees.  In  the  Netherlands  there  exists  a  portion  of 
the  French  .Reformed  Church,  termed  the  Walloon  Church,  Presby- 
terian in  its  constitution,  and  differing  from  the  Church  of  Holland 
only  in  the  use  of  the  French  language.  In  Switzerland,  also,  the 
Protestant  Church  is  Presbyterian,  and  D'Aubigne,  the  author  of 
the  celebrated  history  of  the  Reformation,  is  a  Presbyterian  minis- 
ter. In  Prussia,  in  each  of  the  ten  provinces  into  which  the  king- 
dom is  divided,  there  is  a  consistory,  composed  partly  of  ecclesiastics 
and  partly  of  laymen,  for  managing  the  internal  concerns  of  the 
Church,  and  communicating  with  the  Government  by  means  of  su- 
perintendents, who  are  not,  however,  like  the  prelates  of  this  coun- 
try, considered  as  belonging  to  a  distinct  order  of  clergy,  and  as 
possessed  of  distinct  powers,  but  are  mere  presbyters  in  ecclesias- 
tical rank.  In  America,  the  number  of  Presbyterian  ministers  of 
various  religious  bodies  reaches  5000.  In  Canada,  in  Nova  Scotia, 
in  the  West  Indies,  in  Ceylon,  in  New  South  Wales,  in  New  Zealand, 
the  Presbyterian  Church  is  well  known.  There  are  between  two 
hundred  and  three  hundred  ministers  of  the  Church  of  Scotland 
labouring  in  the  British  colonies  at  the  present  moment." 

13* 


170  ENGLAND  IN  1841. 

the  English  owe  the  whole  freedom  of  their  Constitu- 
tion." In  entire  accordance  with  these  opinions  of 
illustrious  men,  the  Rev.  Thomas  Scott,  a  distinguished 
member  of  the  English  Establishment,  says,  "The 
tree  of  liberty,  sober  and  legitimate  liberty,  civil  and 
religious,  under  the  shadow  of  which  we  of  the  Estab- 
lishment, as  well  as  others,  repose  in  peace,  and  the 
fruit  of  which  we  gather,  was  planted  by  the  Puritans, 
and  watered,  if  not  by  their  blood,  at  least  by  their 
tears  and  sorrows.  Yet  it  is  the  modern  fashion  to 
feed  delightfully  on  the  fruit,  and  then  revile,  if  not 
curse,  those  who  planted  and  watered  the  tree."  Are 
the  descendants  of  such  men  to  be  forced,  by  the  arm 
of  civil  power,  to  abandon  their  principles?  They  have 
most  solemnly  declared  before  Heaven. and  the  Church, 
that  they  will  never  relinquish  their  position.  If  this 
controversy  be  carried  to  the  extreme  point,  the  Church 
of  England  cannot  escape  without  agitation;  because 
such  principles  will,  on  investigation,  address  them- 
selves to  the  reason  of  all  dispassionate  men,  no  mat- 
ter how  their  opinions  may  be  entrenched  behind  habit 
and  education;  and  they  will  inquire  into  the  right  of 
presentation  to  the  parishes  of  the  Establishment,  irre- 
spective of  tire  consent  of  the  people.  Should  a  civil 
war  ever  be  waged  in  Great  Britain  on  such  principles 
and  by  such  men,  another  Cromwell  may  appear,  and 
a  King  of  England  may  again  ascend  the  scaffold  and 
lay  his  head  upon  the  block.  I  do  not  wish  to  be 
understood  to  affirm  that  the  Ministers  of  the  Church 
of  Scotland  contemplate  a  resort  to  arms  for  the  re- 
dress of  her  wrongs.     Their  present  purpose — if  the 


ENGLAND  IN  1841.  171 

civil  power  continue  to  invade  her  rights — is  to  retire 
from  the  Establishment.  But  the  people  of  Scotland 
will  make  common  cause  with  their  Church;  and,  in 
the  progress  of  events — estranged  as  they  will  be  from 
the  Government  of  England — the  time  may  arrive 
when  the  popular  discontent  cannot  be  controlled  by 
holy  men,  whose  message  is  peace.  Is  it  not  then  true 
that  England  has  sufficient  cause  to  be  occupied  at 
home,  without  interfering  with  the  social  and  civil  in- 
stitutions of  other  nations? 

The  spirit  of  the  age  is,  inquiry;  and  such  employ- 
ment of  the  human  mind  will  inevitably  lead  to  the 
establishment  of  civil  and  religious  liberty.  '•Chris- 
tianity," says  Dewitt  Clinton,  "is  in  its  essence,  its  doc- 
trines, and  its  forms,  republican.  It  teaches  our 
descent  from  a  common  pair;  it  inculcates  the  natural 
equality  of  mankind;  it  points  to  our  origin  and  our 
end,  to  our  nativity,  our  graces,  and  our  immortal 
destinies,  as  illustrations  of  this  impressive  truth."  In 
proportion  as  the  spirit  of  Christianity  prevails  and 
extends,  the  influence  of  the  republican  spirit  will  be 
enlarged.  It  has  been  said  by  a  writer  of  the  present 
day,  that,  The  Representative  system,  and  public 
opinion  conveyed  by  th«  press  and  the  deliberative 
assemblies,  will  predominate  before  the  expiration  of 
this  century,  in  all  the  royalties;  not,  perhaps,  without 
dreadful  struggles  between  the  monarchical  preten- 
sions and  common  wealth  rights  and  energies.  It  is 
for  the  United  States  to  verify  and  recommend  the 
ancient  maxim,  That  is  the  best  government  in  which, 


172  ENGLAND   IN  1841. 

with  free  institutions,  the  magistrates  obey  the  constitu- 
tion and  laws,  and  the  people  the  magistrates.* 

*  Since  the  commencement  of  the  contest  with  the  Church  of 
Scotland — and  she  has  received  testimonies  of  sympathy  and 
encouragement  from  England,  Ireland,  Switzerland,  Prussia,  and 
America — the  difficulties  of  the  English  Government  have  been 
increased  by  the  controversy  with  the  Irish  Presbyterian  Church, 
caused  by  the  law  relative  to  the  legality  of  marriages,  solemnized 
by  Presbyterian  clergymen,  between  Episcopalians  and  members 
of  the  Presbyterian  community  in  Ireland.  The  law  is  retrospective, 
as  well  as  prospective;  and  thus  it  unsettles  a  practice  which  has  pre- 
vailed in  Ireland  for  two  centuries.  The  question  not  only  involves 
the  legality  of  such  marriages,  but  also  opens  the  ulterior  one  of 
the  meaning  of  holy  orders.  This  case  has  been  decided,  in  favour 
of  Presbyterianism,  by  the  Court  of  Queen's  Bench;  and  will  go,  for 
final  decision,  before  the  House  of  Peers. 


DAVID  BRAINERD. 

"How  awful  is  goodness!"  is  a  sentiment  suggested 
by  the  contemplation  of  the  character  of  an  eminently 
holy  and  devout  man.  It  has  been  said  that,  such  are  the 
beauties  of  Yirtue,  if  she  were  to  descend  from  heaven 
and  assume  human  form,  all  men  would  fall  down 
and  worship  her.  Such  has  not  always  been  the 
homage  of  the  world  Virtue  assumed  the  form  of 
humanity  when  the  Divine  Teacher  came  down  from 
heaven;  and  the  cry  was,  Crucify  him,  Crucify  him. 
Other  men  have  lived  who  would  have  voted  with  the 
Athenian  for  the  banishment  of  Aristides,  because  they 
were  tired  of  hearing  him  styled,  The  Just.  The 
explanation  of  this  exhibition  of  human  depravity,  is 
derived  from  the  reproof  which  an  eminently  holy 
life  administers  to  those  who  place  their  happiness  in 
worldly  pursuits,  and  sensual  indulgences.  Such 
men  may  have  a  feeling  of  respect  and  admiration  for 
holiness;  but,  there  is  a  principle  of  repulsion  within 
them  which  prevents  them  from  loving  that,  which, 
by  its  inherent  excellence,  constrains  their  homage. 

Biography  is  history  teaching  by  example;  and  has 
always  been  a  favourite  study  with  the  Christian,  and 
the  scholar.     It  has  been  observed  that  a  man  improves 


174  DAVID  BRAINERD. 

more  by  reading  the  life  of  a  person  eminent  for  pru- 
dence and  virtue,  than  by  the  finest  rules  and  precepts 
of  morality.  No  uninspired  writings  have  a  greater 
tendency  to  excite  holy  emotions,  than  well  written 
lives  of  eminently  devout  Christians.  In  addition  to 
this,  one  of  the  most  convincing  evidences  of  the 
tmth  of  the  Christian  system,  is  derived  from  the  life 
of  a  good  man.  The  majority  of  mankind  think, 
and  speak,  and  act,  as  if  the  present  state  of  being 
limited  the  exertion  of  their  greatest  powers,  and 
claimed  the  engrossment  of  their  warmest  affections. 
The  man  of  pleasure,  the  soldier,  the  statesman,  and 
the  scholar,  pursue  their  objects  of  desire  with  refer- 
ence to  the  term  of  three-score  and  ten  years;  as  if 
that  were  the  whole  of  the  life  of  man.  The  tran- 
sient emotions  of  a  different  character  which  may  be 
casually  excited— like  the  lightning  which  shews  the 
way  to  the  traveller — are  followed  by  deeper  darkness. 
They  call  themselves  Christians,  because  such  is  the 
faith  of  the  land  in  which  they  were  bom.  They  do 
not  examine  into  the  truth  of  the  evidences  of  Revela- 
tion. But  the  example  of  a  holy  man  compels  them 
to  inquire  into  the  truth  of  the  system  by  which  his 
actions  are  prompted  and  sustained.  Thus  Brainerd 
proved  the  sincerity  of  his  faith  by  the  purity  and 
devotedness  of  his  life:  the  only  true  evidences  a  man 
can  give  to  others  of  his  belief  in  the  doctrines  of  the 
Bible. 

Alexander  thought  Achilles  most  fortunate  in  having 
Homer  to  perpetuate  the  memory  of  his  deeds  in 
immortal  song.     Brainerd — the  holiest  missionary,  if 


DAVID   BRAINERD.  175 

not  the  holiest  man,  of  modem  times — has  found  a 
worthy  biographer  in  one  who  is  considered  by  many 
as  the  greatest  man  of  his  age.  President  Edwards 
could  not  have  performed  a  more  useful  service  than 
when  he  placed  before  the  Christian  public  the 
memoirs  of  a  man  who  has  exercised  such  influence 
over  modern  missionaries.  I  am  not  an  admirer  of 
many  of  the  numerous  biographies  of  the  present 
day.  Although  the  subjects  of  them  may  have  been 
devoted  Christians,  there  was  nothing  sufficiently  dis- 
tinctive in  their  characters  or  actions  to  require  the 
presentation  of  their  written  lives.  This  is  too  fre- 
quently the  mode  by  which  friends  manifest  their 
partiality  for  those  who  are  taken  from  them:  the 
memory  of  whose  virtues  would,  with  more  propriety, 
be  perpetuated  in  the  hearts  of  those  with  whom  they 
lived,  and  by  whom  they  were  loved. 

A  century  has  passed  since  the  death  of  Brainerd; 
but,  his  name  is  as  familiar  with  the  present  genera- 
tion as  household  words.  The  honour  bestowed  upon 
the  woman  who  poured  the  box  of  precious  ointment 
upon  the  head  of  Jesus,  has  become  the  distinction  of 
this  holy  man.  Wherever  the  Gospel  shall  be  preached 
in  the  whole  world,  his  deeds  shall  be  told  for  a  me- 
morial of  him.  In  early  life,  he  became  the  subject 
of  religious  convictions  which  ended  in  an  entire 
change  of  character.  He  was  a  most  distinguished 
member  of  Yale  College,  from  which  he  was  expelled 
as  a  punishment  for  an  indiscreet  remark  in  relation  to 
a  member  of  the  Faculty — made  under  peculiar  cir- 
cumstances during  a  time  of  deep  and  extensive  religious 


176  DAVID  BRAINERD. 

excitement.  At  the  age  of  twenty -four  he  began  to 
preach  to  others  the  truths  of  that  divine  system,  the 
influence  of  which  he  had  so  deeply  felt.  He  passed 
the  remaining  years  of  his  life  as  a  missionaiy  among 
the  Indians  of  Pennsylvania,  New  York,  and  New 
Jersey.  He  died  in  1747,  at  Northampton,  Massachu- 
setts, at  the  house  of  President  Edwards,  when  in  the 
thirtieth  year  of  his  age.  With  the  exception  of  the 
Father  of  his  Country,  no  man  has  died  within  a  cen- 
tury,* over  whose  grave  I  would  stand  with  feelings  of 
respect  and  admiration  so  profound,  as  that  of  David 
Brainerd. 

Brainerd  was  a  man  of  remarkable  intellectual  en- 
dowments. His  invention  was  ready;  his  eloquence 
natural,  with  great  facility  of  expression;  and  he  com- 
bined sprightly  apprehension  with  strong  memory; 
close  and  clear  thought  with  admirable  judgment.  He 
possessed  great  knowledge  of  human  nature,  with 
clearness  in  communicating  his  thoughts,  and  the  talent 
of  accommodating  himself,  in  all  his  efforts,  whether 
from  the  pulpit  or  in  conversation,  to  the  capacity  and 
circumstances  of  those  he  wished  to  instruct.  His 
disposition  was  eminently  social,  and  his  conversation 
entertaining  and  instructive — remarkable  for  the  ability 
displayed  in  defending  truth  and  confuting  error.  Per- 
haps no  uninspired  man  ever  excelled  him  in  pure 
and  undefiled  religion.  Purity,  self-denial,  benevo- 
lence in  its  largest  sense,  humility,  devotion,  and  dead- 
ness  to  the  world,  were  conspicuous  in  his  daily  life. 

*John  Eliot,  the  Apostle  to  the  Indians — a  man  who  has  claims 
on  the  homage  of  the  human  race — lived  a  century  before  Brainerd. 


DAVID  BRAINERD.  177 

Holiness  and  heaven  were  objects  of  his  warmest  de- 
sire; prayer  was  the  very  breath  of  his  life;  and  he 
passed  years  of  laborious  self-denial  among  the  red 
children  of  the  woods,  making  himself  familiar  with 
all  their  wants,  and  thus  securing  their  affection;  "In 
journeyings  often,  in  perils  by  the  heathen,  in  perils  in 
the  wilderness,  in  weakness  and  painfulness,  in  watch- 
ings  often,  in  hunger  and  thirst,  in  fastings  often,  in 
cold  and  nakedness."  He  prepared  for  himself  sim- 
ple dwellings  among  those  poor  heathen,  to  which  he 
retired  when  nature  would  sustain  no  greater  toil: 
having  no  companion  but  that  God  with  whom  Enoch 
walked;  no  friend  but  Him  who  sent  the  widow  and 
the  ravens  to  support  Elijah.  Does  the  reader  desire 
to  be  informed  as  to  the  causes  which  can  lead  a  man 
to  make  such  sacrifices  and  endure  such  privations  and 
toils?  Let  him  receive  the  answer  in  the  words  of 
Francis  Xavier,  than  whom  a  man  of  nobler  mould, 
or  of  more  exalted  magnanimity  has  never  lived.  "If 
those  lands"  said  the  Apostle  of  the  Indies,  when  his 
friends  would  dissuade  him  from  visiting  the  islands  of 
the  Indian  Archipelago,  "If  those  lands  had  scented 
woods  and  mines  of  gold,  Christians  would  find 
courage  to  go  there;  nor  would  all  the  perils  of  the 
world  prevent  them.  They  are  dastardly  and  alarmed, 
because  there  is  nothing  to  be  gained  there  but  the 
souls  of  men.  And  shall  love  be  less  hardy  and  less 
generous  than  avarice?  They  will  destroy  me,  you  say, 
by  poison.  It  is  an  honour  to  which  such  a  sinner  as 
I  am  may  not  aspire;  but,  this  I  dare  to  say,  that,  what- 
ever form  of  torture  or  of  death  awaits  me,  I  am  ready 
16 


178  DAVID  BRAIJsfERD. 

to  suffer  it  ten  thousand  times  for  the  salvation  of  a 
single  soul."  Such  was  the  heroic  language  of  a 
man,  who,  at  the  age  of  forty-seven,  and  after  passing 
ten  years  in  missionaiy  labours,  sank  under  disease, 
privation,  and  toil;  and,  exclaiming,  In  te,  Dornine, 
speravi;  non  confundar  in  ceternum!  "bowed  his  head 
and  died." 

Brainerd's  knowledge  of  theology  was  extensive  and 
accurate;  particularly  in  all  that  relates  to  experimental 
religion.  President  Edwards  says,  "I  never  knew  his 
equal,  of  his  age  and  standing,  for  clear,  accurate  no- 
tions of  the  nature  and  essence  of  true  religion,  and 
its  distinctness  from  its  various  false  appearances." 
Truth,  says  Milton,  is  the  daughter,  not  of  time  but 
of  heaven;  only  bred  Up  here  below  in  Christian  hearts, 
between  two  grave  and  holy  nurses — the  doctrine  and 
discipline  of  the  Gospel. 

With  such  qualifications,  it  causes  no  surprise  that 
the  labours  of  Brainerd  were  eminently  successful;  and 
that  his  moral  wilderness  budded  and  blossomed  as  the 
rose.  He  was  only  the  agent;  the  power  came  from 
above.  "Son  of  man,  can  these  bones  live?"  Not 
until  the  Lord  God  saith;  "Come  from  the  four  winds, 
O  breath!  and  breathe  upon  these  slain  that  they  may 
live."  Brainerd  taught  his  Indians  to  discard  their 
belief  in  a  heaven  consisting  of  green  fields,  and  flow- 
ing streams,  and  pleasant  hunting  grounds,  with  their 
faithful  dogs  for  their  companions.  They  believed, 
with  him,  in  a  heaven  where  God  shall  wipe  away  all 
tears  from  their  eyes;  and  there  shall  be  no  more  death, 
neither  sorrow  nor  crying,  neither  shall  there  be  any 
more  pain:  for  the  former  things  are  passed  away. 


DAVID  BRAINERD.  179 

Brainerd  and  his  biographer  were,  in  early  life,  re- 
markable examples  of  that  kind  of  conviction  which 
results  in  many  of  the  appearances  of  true  conversion; 
but,  where  subsequent  experience  proves  that  the  work 
was  incomplete.  The  reader  who  wishes  to  see  striking 
illustrations  of  the  extent  to  which  the  unregenerate 
heart  may  go,  in  emotions  and  the  performance  of  acts 
of  devotion,  will  be  interested  with  the  memoirs  of 
these  two  eminent  men.  Similar  cases  are  by  no  means 
uncommon.  A  Christian  education,  and  the  example 
of  pious  parents,  combined  with  various  other  circum- 
stances, may  produce  feelings  and  actions  difficult  to 
be  distinguished  from  those  prompted  by  true  religion; 
when,  subsequently,  as  in  these  two  instances,  convic- 
tions of  a  different  kind  are  experienced.  Much  of 
their  deep  knowledge  of  the  human  heart,  as  the  sub- 
ject of  religious  emotions,  was  derived  from  the  expe- 
rience of  their  early  lives;  and,  hence,  the  peculiar 
qualifications  they  possessed  for  directing  the  inquiries 
of  others  to  a  discovery  of  their  true  spiritual  condi- 
tion. The  work  of  Edwards  on  Religious  Affections, 
stands  without  a  rival  in  any  uninspired  age  of  the 
world. 

The  melancholy  of  Brainerd  was  a  defect  in  his 
character,  as  is  admitted  by  his  biographer;  and  was 
acknowledged  by  himself  towards  the  close  of  his 
useful  life.  This  was  his  natural  temperament;  and 
the  constitutional  infirmity  was  increased  by  his  want 
of  a  missionary  companion  during  the  five  years  he 
lived  among  the  Indians.  In  addition  to  this,  he  had 
a  deep  and  abiding  conviction  of  the  importance  of 


180  DAVID  BRAINERD, 

the  mission  to  which  he  had  devoted  his  powers  and 
his  life.  There  was  an  abandonment  of  self;  a  con- 
stant sorrowing  for  the  blindness  and  miseries  of  man; 
an  hourly  desire  to  excite  the  sinner  to  a  sense  of  his 
condition;  an  ardent  longing -to  live,  daily,  in  the  unin- 
terrupted enjoyment  of  that  high  communion  with  his 
Maker  which  belongs  only  to  heaven.  And,  because 
clouds  sometimes  concealed  the  blessed  light,  he 
mourned  as  one  without  hope.  He  did  not  consider 
that  the  darkness  of  night  adds  new  charms  to  the  re- 
turning day;  that  the  snows  and  cold  of  winter  prepare 
for  the  more  beauteous  appearance  of  verdant  Spring. 
This  melancholy,  arising  from  deep  impressions,  is  not 
peculiai  to  the  Christian.     Lucius  Caiy* — the  "god- 

*Lucius  Cary,  Viscount  Falkland,  took  sides  with  the  party  of 
Hampden  in  the  early  period  of  the  contest  between  Charles  I.  and 
Parliament.  But  he  was  one  of  those  with  whom  a  reaction  took 
place,  on  account  of  what  they  deemed  the  excessive  attacks 
on  the  royal  prerogative;  and  he  became,  with  Clarendon  and  others, 
a  Constitutional  Royalist.  He  fell,  while  fighting  in  the  King's 
army,  at  the  battle  of  Newbury.  In  illustration  of  the  part  of  his 
character  referred  to  in  the  text,  I  make  the  following  extract  from 
Hume;  '-'Devoted  to  the  pursuits  of  learning,  and  to  the  society  of 
all  the  polite  and  elegant,  he  had  enjoyed  himself  in  every  pleasure 
which  a  fine  genius,  a  generous  disposition,  and  an  opulent  fortune 
could  afford.  In  public  life  he  displayed  that  masculine  eloquence, 
and  undaunted  love  of  liberty,  which  he  had  imbibed  from  his  inti- 
mate acquaintance  with  the  sublime  spirits  of  antiquity.  Still 
anxious  for  his  country,  he  seems  to  have  dreaded  the  too  prosperous 
success  of  his  own  party,  as  much  as  that  of  the  enemy;  and,  among 
his  intimate  friends,  often,  after  a  deep  silence  and  frequent  sighs,  he 
would,  with  a  sad  accent,  reiterate  the  word,  Peace.  From  the  com- 
mencement of  the  war,  his  natural  cheerfulness  and  vivacity  became 
clouded;  and  even  his  usual  attention  to  dress,  required  by  his  birth 
and  station,  gave  way  to  negligence.    On  the  morning  of  the  day 


DAVID  BRAINERD.  181 

like  Falkland,"  of  Pope,  the  accomplished,  the  brilliant, 
the  gay  cavalier — during  the  civil  war  mourned  over 
the  miseries  of  his  country;  and  on  the  morning  of 
the  day  which  saw  him  laid  low  in  battle,  as  if  with 
a  deep  presentiment  of  his  fate,  he  cried,  "Peace! 
Peace!"  Another  parallel  may  be  found,  when,  on  the 
morning  of  his  last  battle,  Falkland  adorned  himself 
in  his  most  splendid  military  costume,  and  then  threw 
himself  into  the  thickest  of  the  fight,  as  if  he  courted 
death.  Brainerd  took  the  "breast-plate  of  righteous- 
ness, the  shield  of  faith,  the  helmet  of  salvation,  and 
the  sword  of  the  Spirit;"  and  then,  forgetting  that  the 
missionary  who  takes  proper  care  of  his  health,  will 
live  longer  and  accomplish  more  work,  he  was  prodigal 
of  life.  This  was  no  less  a  fault  with  the  devoted 
Christian  missionary,  than  with  the  brilliant  British 
soldier. 

The  memoirs  of  Brainerd  may  be  read  with  profit 
by  every  Christian.  Almost  every  page  is  filled  with 
aspirations  after  holiness  and  heaven.  He  was  a  "de- 
vout man,  and  full  of  the  Holy  Ghost."  Read  the 
account  of  his  closing  scene,  abounding  with  spiritual 
joy:  "My  heaven  is  to  please  God,  to  glorify  him,  to 
give  all  to  him,  to  be  wholly  devoted  to  his  glory. 
That  is  the  heaven  I  long  for;  that  is  my  religion;  that 

in  which  he  fell,  he  shewed  some  care  in  adorning  his  person,  be- 
cause, as  he  said,  he  believed  he  would  fall  in  battle;  and  he  did  not 
wish  his  person  to  be  found  in  a  slovenly  condition.  I  am  weary  of 
the  times,  he  said,  and  foresee  much  misery  to  my  country.''  He 
died  at  the  early  age  of  thirty-four.  His  death,  and  that  of  Hamp- 
den which  occurred  two  months  earlier,  in  1643,  were  unfortunate 
events  for  England, 

16* 


j  82  DAVID  BRAINERB. 

is  my  happiness;  and  all  those  who  are  of  that  religion 
will  meet  me  in  heaven."  "I  do  not  go  to  heaven  to 
be  advanced,  but  to  give  honour  to  God.  It  is  no  mat- 
ter where  I  shall  be  stationed  in  heaven,  whether  I 
have  a  high  or  low  seat  there;  but  I  go  to  love,  and 
please,  and  glorify  God.  If  I  had  a  thousand  souls,  I 
would  give  them  all  to  him;  but  I  have  nothing  to  give 
when  all  is  done.  It  is  impossible  for  any  rational 
creature  to  be  happy  without  acting  all  for  God.  God 
himself  could  not  make  me  happy  in  any  other  way." 
"I  long  to  be  in  heaven,  praising  and  glorifying  God, 
with  the  holy  angels;  all  my  desire  is  to  glorify  God. 
There  is  nothing  in  the  world  worth  living  for,  but 
doing  good  and  finishing  God's  work;  doing  the  work 
that  Christ  did.  I  see  nothing  else  in  the  world  that 
can  yield  any  satisfaction,  besides  living  to  God, 
pleasing  him,  and  doing  his  whole  will.  I  am  almost 
in  eternity;  I  long  to  be  there;  I  shall  soon  be  with  the 
holy  angels;  Jesus  will  come,  he  will  not  tarry;  death 
is  what  I  long  for;  O,  why  is  his  chariot  so  long  in 
coming!"  Such  raptures  the  wealth  of  the  Indies  could 
not  purchase:  in  comparison  with  them,  the  treasures 
and  honours  of  the  world  are  without  value. 

The  names  of  the  heroes  of  the  earth  live  in  story 
and  in  song:  and  men  are  taught  to  admire  their  deeds, 
notwithstanding  they  may  have  left  the  countries 
through  which  they  marched,  like  the  stillness  of  the 
land  over  which  the  whirlwind  has  passed — dreary  and 
desolate:  themselves  unaffected  by  the  anguish  of  the 
suffering,  or  the  lamentations  for  the  dead.  They  have 
had  their  day  of  glory;  and  the  light  of  civilization,  with 


DAVID  BRAINEKD.  183 

the  progress  of  Christianity,  will  blot  out  their  fame 
from  the  memory  of  man.  But  the  name  of  this  Indian 
Missionary  will  never  die.  When  the  heralds  of  salva- 
tion shall  have  circled  the  earth,  and,  meeting  from  the 
North  and  the  South,  from  the  East  and  the  West, 
shall  join  in  the  joyous  exclamation,  The  kingdoms  of 
this  world  have  become  the  kingdoms  of  our  Lord  and 
of  his  Christ,  thousands  will  "rise  up  and  call  him 
blessed." 


MAY  THE  FOURTEENTH,  1841, 

"How  soon  the  dawn,  that  shone  so  bright, 

Is  deeply  veiled  in  silent  gloom! 
How  soon  a  Nation's  hope  and  light 

Sink  in  the  darkness  of  the  tomb!" 

Percival. 

The  expression  of  the  emotions  of  our  nature,  when 
they  are  excited  by  causes  which  involve  the  interests 
and  affections  of  communities,  cannot  be  repressed. 
So  the  streams  which  now  under  ground — concealed 
in  their  existence  from  our  observation-— however  far 
and  silent  they  may  pursue  their  course,  at  length  find 
a  vent  through  which  they  empty  into  the  rivers,  and 
contribute  to  swell  the  immeasurable  volume  of  the 
great  ocean  of  waters.  When  the  fountains  of  the 
great  deep  were  broken  up,  the  resistless  flood  over- 
spread the  earth.  The  fountains  of  the  great  deep  of 
popular  emotion  have  been  broken  up  by  a  blow  from 
the  same  Almighty  hand,  and  the  voice  of  lamentation 
has  been  heard  from  every  section  of  our  country. 
The  Henchman  of  other  days  obeyed  the  command 
of  his  chieftain;  and,  bearing  the  fiery  cross,  with  the 
lightning's  speed,  over  river,  mountain,  and  valley,  ex- 
cited the  clansmen  from  their  repose.  So  now  Death 
on  his  pale  horse,  having  received  his  commission,  has 


186  MAY  FOURTEENTH,  1341. 

executed  his  work;  and  the  emblems  of  mourning  have 
been  spread  in  every  valley,  and  have  floated  on  every 
mountain-top.  The  streets  of  our  populous  cities — 
clothed  with  sable  vesture — have  given  signs  of  woe, 
indicating  that  a  people  mourned.  And  yet  we  have 
heard  no  murmuring  words;  but  the  Nation  bows  the 
head  in  profound  submission  to  the  will  of  the  great 
I  AM. 

"A  great  man  has  fallen  in  Israel!"  was  the  expres- 
sive lamentation  of  the  son  of  Jesse  over  the  death  of 
Abner.  A  greater  than  the  Captain  of  David  has,  in 
the  maturity  of  his  days  and  his  honours,  fallen  in  our 
Israel:  and  the  whole  Nation  will  this  day  assemble  to 
express  their  submission  to  the  will  of  the  Great  Dis- 
poser; and  to  manifest  their  regard  for  the  memory  of 
him  who  was  a  Father  to  his  country.  The  Jewish 
Lawgiver  led  his  people  out  from  the  bondage  of 
Egypt:  and,  having  been  their  guide  during  the  forty 
years  they  wandered  in  the  wilderness,  he  baited  in  the 
land  of  Moab,  on  the  banks  of  Jordan.  He  was  there 
commanded  to  ascend  the  top  of  Pisgah,  and  behold 
the  land  which  had  been  promised  as  the  reward  and 
the  resting  place  for  his  long  tried  nation.  Having  ac- 
complished his  mission  he  was  gathered  to  his  people, 
and  the  children  of  Israel  wept  for  Moses  in  the  plains 
of  Moab  thirty  days.  So  The  Good  President  of 
these  United  States — after  a  long  and  weary  pilgrimage, 
during  which  he  devoted  all  his  energies  to  the  service 
of  his  country — ascended  the  top  of  the  political 
Pisgah;  and,  having  surveyed  from  that  elevation  the 
land  which  has  been  given  to  us  for  a  possession,  he 


MAY  FOURTEENTH,  1841.  187 

obeyed  the  divine  commandment,  and  now  sleeps 
with  his  fathers. 

When  Samuel  died,  all  the  Israelites  were  gathered 
together  and  lamented  him  at  Ramah.  In  like  man- 
ner our  People  will  be  gathered  together  this  day:  but, 
our  lamentations  will  be  accompanied  with  our  confi- 
dence in  that  Being  who  provided  the  son  of  Nun  as 
the  successor  of  Moses;  and  who  did  not  leave  his 
people  without  a  guide,  when  his  Prophet  was  trans- 
lated from  the  plains  of  Jericho  in  a  chariot  of  fire. 

It  is  indeed  a  most  beautiful  and  sublime  spectacle 
that  is  this  day  presented  to  the  world.  Seventeen 
millions  of  freemen — without  regard  to  political  dis- 
tinctions, or  religious  creed s— having  sustained  a  na- 
tional bereavement,  assemble  in  temples  dedicated  to 
the  service  of  the  living  God;  and,  by  their  acts  of 
most  solemn  worship,  acknowledge  the  great  truth, 
that  there  is  a  Being  who  controls  the  destinies  of  Na- 
tions. We  do  not  find  in  our  country  a  state  of  national 
feeling  similar  to  that  produced,  in  part,  by  the  writings 
of  the  sage  of  Ferney,  when  the  taste  of  a  nation  was 
corrupted,  and  profligacy  did  not  seek  concealment; 
when  infidelity,  like  the  leprosy,  infected  the  land; 
when  Reason,  in  the  person  of  a  woman,  was  en- 
throned and  worshipped  as  a  Deity.  And  what  was 
the  result  of  this  national  infidelity?  The  horrors  of 
the  Revolution  overwhelmed  France,  like  the  outpour- 
ing of  the  vials  of  the  wrath  of  Heaven.  Theguiho- 
tine  and  lamp  post  claimed  their  thousands  of  victims; 
and  devastating  war  hurried  to  premature  death  hun- 
dreds of  thousands  of  the  chivalry  of  France,  taken 


188  MAY  FOURTEENTH,  1841. 

from  her  populous  cities,  her  vine  clad  hills,  and  her 
green  valleys — leaving  their  bones  to  whiten  on  every 
battle-field  of  Europe,  or  covering  them  deep  with  the 
snows  of  Russia,  or  sinking  them  far  beneath  the 
waters  of  the  Berezina.  Had  it  not  been  for  the  in- 
terposition of  that  Great  Being  whom  we  this  day 
worship,  the  spirit  of  Christianity,  and  the  genius  of 
Liberty  had  alike  expired  amidst  such  scenes  of  infi- 
delity, misery,  devastation,  and  blood. 

The  recommendation  of  the  President  of  the  United 
States  to  set  apart  this  day  for  Fasting,  Humiliation, 
and  Prayer — the  fourth*  time  in  the  history  of  our 
country  that  the  recommendation  of  such  an  observance 
has  proceeded  from  our  National  Executive — has  been 
received  with  the  most  cordial  approbation  by  all 
classes  of  citizens.  We  are  a  religious  people.  Our 
ancestors  expended  their  treasures,  and  shed  their  blood 
in  the  defence  of  religion  and  liberty.  When  they 
were  not  allowed  to  worship  their  Creator  in  temples 
built  by  the  hands  of  man,  they  retired  to  the  moun- 
tain-sides; and,  in  the  primeval  simplicity  and  freedom 
of  Nature,  made  the  valleys  resound  with  the  praises 
of  the  Great  Jehovah.  When  the  persecuting  arm  of 
civil  power  reached  them  there— trusting  to  the  guid- 
ance of  Him  who  made  the  stars  to  direct  the  mariner 
— they  crossed  the  pathless  ocean,  and  landed  on  these 
shores:  and,  under  their  culture,  the  wilderness  has 

*In  1789  President  Washington,  by  request  of  the  two  Houses  of 
Congress,  recommended  a  day  for  public  religious  service  and  thanks- 
giving. The  elder  President  Adams  issued  a  proclamation  for  the 
observance  of  a  fast:  and  President  Madison,  during  the  late  war 
with  Great  Britain,  recommended  a  fast  throughout  the  Union. 


MAY  FOURTEENTH,  1841.  189 

budded  and  blossomed  as  the  rose.  The  same  spirit 
animated  our  fathers  in  the  conflicts  of  those  days 
which  gave  to  us  our  national  existence:  and,  when  that 
spirit  shall  have  ceased  to  animate  their  children,  an 
end  will  have  arrived  for  the  enjoyment  of  those  bless- 
ings which  they  purchased  with  their  blood.  The 
ceremonies  of  this  day  give  evidence  of  the  existence 
of  that  principle,  as  a  national  feeling,  which  will  en- 
sure the  transmission  of  our  institutions  to  unborn 
generations.  We  mourn  the  removal  of  one,  who, 
while  he  was  exalted,  was  also  good.  But,  while  we 
mourn,  we  humble  ourselves  with  fasting  and  prayer; 
and,  as  we  contemplate  this  forcible  illustration  of  the 
emptiness  of  all  earthly  glory,  we  bow  in  submission 
to  that  Great  Supreme  whose  right  it  is  to  reign.  That 
was  a  magnificent  and  solemn  spectacle,  when  the 
body  of  Louis  XIV. — surrounded  by  the  nobility  of 
the  realm — was  placed  in  the  Cathedral  Notre-Dame, 
with  the  drapery  of  mourning  on  every  side;  and 
Massillon  arose,  and,  with  flowing  vestments,  and  up- 
lifted arms,  and  bowed  head,  exclaimed,  God  only  is 
Great. 

It  was  a  saying  of  one  of  the  sages  of  former  times, 
that  no  man  should  be  called  happy  before  his  death. 
We  have  styled  him  whose  departure  we  this  day 
mourn,  The  Good:  and,  if  we  adopt  the  opinion  of 
Solon,  we  may  now  call  him,  The  Happy*  Death 
has  placed  her  final  seal  on  his  actions  and  his  fame; 
and,  in  that  hallowed  sanctuary  where  he  now  sleeps, 
he  is  safe  from  the  strife  of  men.  He  commenced  his 
life  in  the  service  of  his  country:  and,  after  having  led 
17 


190  MAY  FOURTEENTH,  1841. 

her  armies  and  conquered  her  enemies,  he  added  the 
laurels  of  a  statesman  to  the  trophies  of  a  soldier.  In 
imitation  of  heroes  of  other  days,  whose  names  still 
live  in  the  greenness  of  youth,  he  retired  from  public 
life  to  the  banks  of  the  Ohio,  without  pollution  on  his 
hands,  or  corruption  in  his  heart.  He  was  called  from 
this  honourable  retirement  by  the  voice  of  his  country; 
and,  having  marched  to  the  Capitoline  height,  amidst 
the  gush  of  national  enthusiasm  and  the  flood  of  na- 
tional joy,  in  a  triumphal  procession — more  imposing 
than  any  that  ever  graced  the  return  of  Roman  con- 
queror to  the  Eternal  City — he  there,  in  the  presence 
of  the  God  of  Nations,  swore  to  preserve  her  Constitu- 
tion. Prom  Cincinnati  to  "the  distant  Capitol,  his 
step  was  one  triumphal  arch,  whose  keystone  was  the 
unbought  voice  of  myriads:  whose  buttresses  were  the 
aspirations  and  blessings  of  all  hearts.  Those  hours  of 
enthusiasm  in  the  life  of  the  nation  soon  passed:  for 
the  fine  old  man  went  out  like  a  victim  to  the  altar — 
crowned  with  flowers,  but  marching  to  the  grave." 
Before  the  shouts  which  rent  the  air — the  voluntary 
expression  of  the  heart-felt  love  and  joy  of  freemen — 
had  died  upon  the  distant  mountain-tops  of  our  land, 
he  closed  his  eyes  on  all  earthly  glory  as  he  calmly 
placed  his  head  on  the  pillow  of  death:  and  the  sable 
car,  and  the  muffled  drum,  and  the  mournful  array, 
bore  him  to  that  sacred  sanctuary  which  has  been  ap- 
pointed as  the  final  resting-place  for  the  great  family  of 
man.  The  ambitious  statesman  and  soldier — whose 
souls  pant  for  glory — as  they  stood  by  and  looked  into 
that  opening  sepulchre,  might  have  adopted  the  im- 


MAY  FOURTEENTH,  1841.  191 

pressive  words  spoken  by  Burke  when,  during-  an  ex- 
citing canvass,  he  heard  of  the  sudden  death  of  his 
political  rival,  "What  shadows  we  are!  What  shadows 
we  pursue!"  The  glare  of  worldly  distinctions  con- 
ceals from  our  view  the  true  nature  of  man,  and  of  his 
honours:  but,  the  shroud,  the  coffin,  the  mattock,  and 
the  spade,  prompt  us  to  exclaim,  "The  grave  is  mine 
house:  I  have  made  my  bed  in  darkness.  I  have  said 
to  corruption,  Thou  art  my  father:  to  the  worm,  Thou 
art  my  mother,  and  my  sister.''  So  the  lightning 
which  flashes  along  the  horizon,  dazzles  the  eyes  of 
the  beholder;  but,  when  it  has  passed,  leaves  him  sen- 
sible of  the  "darkness  visible" — "darkness  which  may 
be  felt." 

Gen.  Harrison  was  a  soldier — a  patriot — a  statesman. 
But,  the  crowning  glory  of  his  character  has  been 
more  particularly  disclosed  since  his  death — he  was  a 
Christian;  and  his  Country  may  be  consoled  by  the 
consideration  of  those  sublime  words  of  inspiration,  I 
am  the  resurrection  and  the  life.  On  this  day  the  en- 
tire population  of  our  Country  will  assemble  and 
humble  themselves  in  the  presence  of  the  Ruler  of 
Nations,  who,  in  infinite  wisdom,  has  taken  from  us' 
one  whom  we  honoured  while  living,  and  whom  we 
mourn  when  dead.  If  his  country  do  not  erect  a 
monument  to  his  memory,  his  name  will  go  down  to 
posterity.  By  the  glorious  deeds  he  performed  for  her 
he  has  erected  a  memorial  of  his  fame,  more  lasting 
than  monumental  marble. 


JULY  THE  FOURTH,  1842. 

The  celebration  of  birth-days  has  always  been  a 
favourite  custom  with  our  race.  On  such  occasions, 
children  assemble  around  the  parental  board,  and  look 
with  reverence  upon  their  grey-haired  sires;  and  the 
grey-haired  sire, 

"Beneath  his  old  hereditary  trees — 

Trees  which  in  youth  he  oft  had  climb'd — he  sees 

His  children's  children  gather'd  round  his  knees." 

Nations  celebrate  the  birth-days  of  those  who  have 
guided  them  to  the  possession  of  liberty;  and  manifest 
their  appreciation  of  the  blessings  of  freedom  by  the 
affection  with  which  they  cherish  the  memory  of  those 
by  whom  it  was  bestowed.  But  how  grand  is  the 
spectacle  when  the  birth  of  a  Nation  is  celebrated  by 
seventeen  millions  of  freemen!  There  was  moral 
sublimity  in  the  act  of  Brutus,  when — believing  that 
he  had  secured  liberty  for  Rome  by  the  death  of 
Caesar — he  raised  his  arm,  and  shook  his  crimsoned 
sword,  and  hailed  the  Father  of  his  country:  but  it 
was  the  last  blow  that  was  struck  for  freedom;  and  the 
chains  of  the  slave  were  more  firmly  riveted  by  the 
ineffectual  attempt  to  break  them.  We  this  day  com- 
17* 


194  JULY  FOURTH,  1842. 

memorate  the  successful  efforts  of  heroes,  and  the  birth 
of  a  Nation. 

On  the  fourth  of  July,  1584,  two  English  ships 
appeared  in  sight  of  the  coast  of  this  Continent,  and 
afterwards  took  possession  of  a  portion  of  it  in  the 
name  of  the  Crown  of  England;  "In  the  right  of  the 
queene's  most  excellent  majestie,  as  rightful  queene 
and  princesse  of  the  same."  England  was  thus  un- 
consciously preparing  a  refuge  for  freedom  when  she 
should  depart  as  an  exile  from  her  own  shores;  and 
the  Anniversary  of  the  arrival  is  now  celebrated,  not 
as  that  of  the  origin,  but  of  the  downfall  of  her 
American  power. 

Two  centuries  have  passed  since  the  Long  Parlia- 
ment of  England  appointed  a  joint  Committee  of 
Lords  and  Commons  to  inquire  into,  and  report  on, 
the  state  of  the  nation.  The  immortal  John  Hamp- 
den*—a  noble  representative  of  England  at  the  birth 

*  George  "Washington  and  John  Hampden  are  among  the  few  in- 
stances of  great  men  who  "neither  sought  nor  shunned  greatness; 
who  found  glory  only  because  glory  lay  in  the  path  of  duty." 
Hampden  was  a  most  distinguished  parliamentary  debater  and  man- 
ager, a  statesman,  and  a  soldier.  The  motto  he  used  as  a  device 
was,  Vestigia  nulla  retrorsum.  His  mind  was  "healthful  and  well 
proportioned;  willingly  contracting  itself  to  the  humblest  duties; 
easily  expanding  itself  to  the  highest;  contented  in  repose;  powerful 
in  action."  He  possessed,  says  an  eloquent  English  writer,  "That 
sobriety,  that  self-command,  that  perfect  soundness  of  judgment, 
that  entire  rectitude  of  intention,  to  which  the  history  of  revolu- 
tions furnishes  no  parallel,  or  furnishes  a  parallel  in  Washington 
alone."  His  virtues  and  talents,  his  valour  and  accomplishments, 
made  him  the  greatest  and  most  popular  man  in  England.  Hume,  a 
royalist  historian,  describes  him  as  being  distinguished  by  "affabi- 
lity in  conversation;  temper,  art,  and  eloquence  in  debate:  penetra- 


JULY  FOURTH,  1842.  195 

of  all  the  liberty  of  modern  times — was  at  the  head 
of  the  Committee  of  the  Commons  who  brought  into 
the  House  the  "Grand  Remonstrance."  The  fire 
kindled  by  Hampden  and  his  associates  has  never  been 
extinguished;  and,  when  the  vestal  vigilance  which 
guarded  the  sacred  trust  was  not  allowed  the  undis- 
turbed discharge  of  its  functions  in  the  land  of  its 
birth,  it  was  brought  to  the  New  World,  where  an 
altar  could  be  erected  on  which  the  fire  and  the  in- 
cense might  burn  forever. 

Who,  even  at  the  distance  of  sixty-six  years,  can 
contemplate  the  deeds  of  1776,  without  being  filled 
with  admiration?  The  government  of  an  Empire  on 
whose  possessions  the  sun  never  went  down,  oppressed 
three  millions  of  people,  and  the  spirit  of  Hampden 
revived  within  them.  They  spurned  the  rod  of  the 
oppressor,  and  made  declaration  to  the  world,  that  they 
were  prepared  to  •  contend  for  the  possession  of  that 
freedom  which  was  the  gift  of  the  God  who  made 
them.  And  they  were  not  the  men  to  abandon  their 
determination  because  of  the  attendant  trials.  They 
were  descended  from  those  who  were  driven  by  the 
pains  and  penalties  of  persecution  to  seek  an  asylum 
where  they  might  worship  the  God  of  their  fathers  ac- 
cording to  the  dictates  of  their  own  consciences — the 

tion  and  discernment  in  counsel;  industry,  vigilance,  and  enterprise 
in  action."  If  he  had  lived,  he  would  have  commanded  the  army 
of  Parliament;  and  that  might  have  made  the  Civil  War  a  still 
greater  blessing  to  England.  Hampden  and  Cromwell  were  equally 
"capable  of  gaining  the  victory"  for  England:  but  Hampden  was 
"incapable  of  abusing  that  victory  when  gained."  He  died  in  1643, 
at  the  age  of  forty-nine . 


196  JULY  FOURTH,  1842, 

inherent  and  inalienable  right  of  every  human  being: 
who  escaped  the  fires  of  Smithfield  by  encountering 
the  dangers  of  the  ocean;  who  landed  on  the  shores  of 
a  countiy  whose  woods  were  filled  with  savage  beasts, 
and  more  savage  men;  who  built  humble  dwellings 
from  which  they  offered  their  ardent  homage  to  the 
God  of  Israel  who  had  protected  them  by  his  pillar  of 
cloud,  and  guided  them  by  his  pillar  of  fire;  of  whose 
temples  the  everlasting  hills  and  mighty  oaks  were  the 
columns,  and  the  star-decked  heaven  the  canopy.  At 
the  time  they  commenced  the  contest  we  cannot  sup- 
pose they  had  a  view  of  half  the  glories  of  the  land 
of  promise  to  which  they  were  to  guide  the  nations. 
When  the  Prophet  sent  his  servant  to  the  top  of  Car- 
mel,  he  discovered  a  little  cloud  arising  out  of  the  sea, 
like  a  man's  hand.  But  this  little  cloud  was  the  pre- 
cursor of  a  great  rain  which  clothed  the  earth  with 
verdure,  and  relieved  the  famine  of  a  nation.  So  the 
little  cloud  which  appeared  in  ?76  has  enlarged  until 
the  heaven  is  black  with  a  covering  which  promises  to 
overspread  the  earth.  The  famine  of  despotism  shall 
not  always  prevail.  The  victim  of  power,  of  every 
land  and  in  every  clime,  the  iron  of  whose  captivity 
"enters  into  his  soul,"  would  laugh  at  the  tyrant's 
frown  and  dance  in  his  chains,  as  he  shook  them  "in 
transport  and  rude  harmony,"  if  he  could  hear  the  ten 
thousands  of  Peeans  which  this  day  ascend  from  the 
hearts  of  the  free  to  the  GodVof  the  oppressed.  Here, 
the  Morning  Star  of  Liberty  has  arisen  upon  the  na- 
tions; and,  we  believe  the  time  will  come  when  its 
light  will  visit  every  dark  habitation:  when  its  power 


JULY  FOURTH,  1842.  197 

will  strike  the  galling  chain  from  every  captive's  arm; 
wrest  the  merciless  lash  from  every  oppressor's  grasp; 
and  man  stand  forth  in  all  the  native  dignity  of  his 
nature,  "regenerated,  redeemed,  and  disenthralled,"* 

*  The  deep  impression  made  on  European  mind  by  the  war  of 
the  Revolution,  is  described  in  the  following  extract  from  a  recent 
number  of  the  British  and  Foreign  Review: 

"In  looking  over  the  numerous  German  memoirs,  reminiscences, 
&c,  to  which  we  alluded  at  the  beginning  of  this  article,  we  are 
struck  with  the  unanimity  on  one  point — the  mighty  impression 
made  on  all  minds  by  the  American  war.  This  event  seems  to  have 
startled  Europe  to  its  remotest  bounds  and  its  obscurest  recesses. 
All  these  writers,  however  distant  the  places  of  their  birth,  however 
different  the  circumstances  under  which  they  lived,  refer  to  this  as 
one  of  the  most  vivid  and  indelible  impressions  of  their  childhood. 
What  Goethe  says  of  it  must  be  familiar  to  many  of  our  readers. 
He,  however,  was  a  native  of  a  great  and  much  frequented  commer- 
cial city;  but  in  the  remote  and  tranquil  seclusion  of  a  small  town 
of  Norway,  the  hearts  of  men  were  stirred  with  strange  hopes  and 
lofty  aspirations  for  their  raceB's 


THE  SEA-SHORE. 

"Pleasant,  yet  mournful,"  are  the  associations  con- 
nected with  the  last  rose  of  Summer.  The  thoughts 
recur  to  fruitful  fields,  and  unclouded  skies:  delicious 
odours,  and  beautiful  parterres,  and  sweet  flowers. 
Prospectively  contrasted  with  these,  are  Autumn  frosts 
and  nature  clad  in  the  livery  of  incipient  decay;  the 
yellow  leaves  of  the  forest;  the  icy  chains  and  snowy 
dress  of  Winter. 

The  visiters  who  remain  on  this  shore  may  now  be 
occupied  with  reflections  similar  to  these.  The  saloons 
are  no  longer  crowded;  the  merry  laugh  is  no  more 
heard,  Terpsichore,  with  her  soul-inspiring  music,  has 
departed;  and  the  silence  of  which  Ossian  complained 
in  the  hall  of  his  fathers,  reigns  here.  After  a  few  more 
days  this  place  will  be  left  to  the  solitude  which  be- 
longs to  its  position.  They  who  have  enlivened  its 
shore  have  returned  to  friends  and  home,  having  ex- 
changed the, 

"Farewell!  a  word  that  must  be,  and  hath  been, 
A  sound  which  makes  us  linger;  yet,  farewell!" 

They  return  to  plunge  again  in  the  engrossing  pursuits 
of  life;  and  the  man  of  avarice,  and  the  devotee  of 


200  THE  SEA-SHORE. 

pleasure,  will  continue  to  worship  their  idols,  as  if  they 
had  not  here  contrasted  the  nothingness  of  man,  with 
the  glorious  works  of  the  mighty  God.  I  am  not  one 
of  those  to  whom  this  place  has  no  charms,  unless 
crowded  with  gay  companions.  No  man  is  more  fond 
of  society  than  myself.  I  love  sprightly  conversation; 
and  beautiful  faces,  and  sweet  smiles.  But  I  also  de- 
sire sometimes  to  feel  that  I  stand  alone  in  the  presence 
of  the  great  I  AM,  and  commune  with  him  through 
his  works  that  are  spread  around  me.  I  love  solitude 
like  this:  yet,  it  is  when  I  know  I  can,  at  any  mo- 
ment, dissolve  the  charm,  and  return  to  crowded  streets 
and  the  busy  haunts  of  men.  They  who  met  here 
and  have  parted,  will  never  again  assemble  until  the 
trump  of  the  Archangel  shall  sound.  Another  and 
more  boundless  Ocean  lies  before  us.  One  by  one, 
willing  or  unwilling,  we  must  spread  our  canvass  on 
the  bosom  of  that  mighty  sea;  and  where  we  shall 
land,  Oh,  who  can  tell!  Why  should  not  man  indulge 
solemn  thoughts,  even  amidst  festive  scenes?  Objects 
for  the  gratification  of  our  senses  are  profusely  spread 
above,  and  beneath,  and  around  us;  but,  it  was  never 
designed  that  we  should  enjoy  the  bounties  of  his 
providence,  and  forget  Him  who  gave  them.  The 
roaming  savage  of  primeval  forests  recognises  a  God  in 
the  clouds  and  the  winds;  why,  then,  should  not 
Christian  man  be  led  by  the  contemplation  of  His 
works  to  that  best  of  all  knowledge — the  knowledge  of 
Himself? 

I  do  not  know  any  place  of  Summer  resort  for  those 
who  seek  an  escape  from  the  business  associations,  and 


THE  SEA-SHORE.  201 

oppressive  heat  of  large  cities,  which,  for  the  purposes 
of  health  and  quiet  enjoyment,  equals  the  Sea-shore. 
Why,  it  is  ecstacy  to  plunge  in  old  Ocean;  to  buffet  his 
mighty  breakers;  to  contend  against  his  tremendous 
power,  and  feel  a  proud  consciousness  of  your  own 
skill  and  strength  as  you  emerge,  unharmed,  from  his 
briny  wave.  The  drive  along  the  shore,  with  the  ex- 
panded view  and  invigorating  sea-breeze,  is  exceed- 
ingly pleasant;  and,  if  any  magic  power  could  afford  the 
inhabitants  of  cities  access  to  it  on  a  fine  afternoon, 
with  their  lovely  faces  and  gay  equipages,  the  scene 
would  surpass  that  presented  by  the  London  parks. 
Sometimes  the  indications  of  an  approaching  storm 
present  a  scene  of  surpassing  interest;  the  breakers 
dashing  with  fury,  as  they  roll  up  the  inclined  plane 
and  thunder  on  the  shore;  the  white-caps  dancing,  in 
ceaseless  succession,  as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach;  the 
porpoise  displaying  a  portion  of  his  dark  body,  and 
then  plunging  beneath  the  wave;  the  sea-gull  poising 
himself  in  the  air  as  if  engaged,  while  hovering  over 
the  billows  amidst  elemental  strife,  in  beholding  and 
admiring  the  mighty  power  of  the  God  of  storms. 

A  walk  on  the  shore  at  sunset  is  most  beautiful. 
Rich  and  various  colours  are  reflected  along  the  sky  by 
every  pendent  and  scattered  cloud;  and  the  broad  ex- 
panse of  the  Ocean  is  before  you,  peopled  by  its  my- 
riads of  animated  nature,  and  enriched  by  the  treasures 
of  a  thousand  shipwrecks  which  will  be  forever  locked 
up  in  its  "dark,  unfathomed  caves." 

Many  persons  prefer  to  pass  the  Summer  months  at 
the   interior  watering-places,  because   they   are   con- 
18 


202  THE  SEA-SHORE. 

sidered  more  fashionable;  and,  for  this  consideration, 
they  submit  to  the  annoyance  of  heat  and  dust.  Why 
should  not  lovely  woman,  who  has  passed  Winter  and 
Spring  in  gay  saloons  and  high  excitements,  seek 
repose  in  Summer;  and  thus  allow  the  roses  to  bloom 
again  on  cheeks  which  are  tinged  with  unhealthy 
hues?  In  London,  when  a  mother  sees  her  fashionable 
daughter  with  pallid  cheeks,  or  hears  her  complain  of 
restless  nights,  she  sends  her  to  some  countiy  relative, 
that  she  may  observe  regular  hours  and  breathe  pure 
air.  A  quiet  Summer  on  the  coast,  or  in  mountainous 
regions,  would  be  equally  salutary  to  the  fair  daughters 
of  our  large  cities.  But  fashion  is  the  most  inexorable 
of  all  tyrants,  and  constrains  them  to  encounter  all  the 
inconveniences  attending  on  places  of  gay  resort.  Her 
terms  are  as  despotic  as  those  of  Islam,  The  tribute, 
the  Koran,  or  the  sword. 

No  description  of  the  Ocean  equals  that  by  Lord 
Byron,  in  the  fourth  Canto  of  Childe  Harold,  com- 
mencing with, 

Roll  on,  thou  dark  and  deep  blue  Ocean— roil. 

It  is,  indeed,  a  glorious  mirror,  where  the  Almighty's 
form  glasses  itself  in  tempests,  boundless,  endless,  and 
sublime — the  image  of  eternity — the  throne  of  the 
Invisible.  What  must  have  been  the  inspiration  of  his 
genius,  when  these  sublime  conceptions  arose  in  his 
mind.  Had  not  that  great  mind  been  perverted,  nature 
would  have  been  an  open  volume  from  which  he  would 
have  read,  with  improvement,  the  character  of  his  Maker; 


THE  SEA-SHORE.  203 

a  correct  knowledge  of  whom  he  might  have  imparted 
to  men.  The  high-born  and  gifted  Alfieri,  a  brother- 
spirit,  felt — like  Byron — the  inspiration  of  the  view, 
when,  in  early  life,  the  Sea-shore  exerted  such 
influence  over  his  unconscious  genius:  "Almost  every 
evening,  after  bathing  in  the  sea,  it  delighted  me  to 
retreat  to  a  little  recess  where  the  land  jutted  out;  there 
I  would  sit,  leaning  my  back  against  a  high  rock, 
which  concealed  from  my  sight  every  part  of  the  land 
behind  me,  while  before  and  around  me  I  beheld 
nothing  but  the  sea  and  the  heavens:  the  sun,  sinking 
into  the  waves,  was  lighting  up  and  embellishing  these 
two  immensities;  there  would  I  pass  a  delicious  hour 
of  fantastic  ruminations;  and  there  I  should  have  com- 
posed many  a  poem,  had  I  then  known  how  to  write 
either  in  verse  or  prose,  in  any  language  whatever." 

I  have  long  had  a  desire  to  see  the  Ocean  during  a 
storm;  and,  a  few  days  since,  I  was  partially  gratified. 
At  two  o'clock  there  was  violent  rain,  with  thunder  and 
lightning;  but  the  Ocean  did  not  become  much  agitated 
until  towards  evening.  The  sun-set  was  brilliant, 
decking  the  clouds  with  a  thousand  beautiful  colours, 
and  covering  the  landscape  with  a  robe  of  living  light. 
Notwithstanding  the  calmness  and  beauty  of  the  sky, 
the  mountain-waves  were  rolling  towards  the  shore, 
like  aa  war-horse  foaming  from  the  battle;"  and,  such 
was  their  fury,  they  would  have  dashed  whole  navies 
to  atoms.  The  lightning  which  played  along  the 
horizon  as  far  as  the  eye  could  extend  over  the  bosom 
of  the  Sea,  added  to  the  grandeur  of  the  view.  I  sat 
for  a  considerable  time^  in  unbroken  silence,  and  sur- 


204  THE  SEA-SHORE. 

veyed  the  magnificent  scene,  That  was  a  glorious 
temple  of  Nature,  at  whose  altar  man,  the  High  Priest, 
might  have  bowed  down  in  silent  adoration  and  wor- 
shipped the  Great  Spirit, 

I  have  also  sat  on  the  shore,  at  a  late  hour,  sur- 
rounded by  a  stillness  which  was  broken  only  by  the 
roaring  billows,  and  witnessed  a  beautiful  display  of 
falling  stars.  I  had  never  seen  one  half  so  brilliant. 
The  fall  was  very  frequent,  and  they  seemed  to  be 
extinguished  in  their  watery  bed.  While  occupied  in 
the  contemplation,  I  thought  of  those  lines,  which 
describe  the  fate  of  woman  when  she  departs  from 
virtue: 

"Ruin  ensues,  reproach,  and  endless  shame, 
And  one  false  step  forever  blasts  her  name, 
In  vain  with  tears  her  loss  she  may  deplore; 
In  vain  look  back  to  what  she  was  before; 
She  sits — like  stars  that  fall — to  rise  no  more ." 

In  a  Christian  sense,  I  am  a  worshipper  of  Nature. 
The  character  of  Deity  shines  in  the  sun  and  moon, 
and  twinkles  in  the  stars.  It  is  seen  in  the  ocean,  the 
mountain,  the  cataract;  and  is  whispered  by  the  gen- 
tie  zephyr  which  gives  health  and  happiness  to  his 
creatures.  I  can  deny  with  Job,  that  "my  heart  hath 
been  secretly  enticed,  or  my  mouth  hath  kissed  my  hand 
as  I  beheld  the  sun  when  he  shineth,  or  the  moon 
walking  in  brightness;"  but,  if  I  had  never  received 
light  from  heaven,  I  should  have  worshipped  the 
"Unknown  God,"  not  in  the  form  of  a  senseless  image, 
but  in  the  glories  of  his  creation.  We  are  all  in  the 
hands  of  the  Great  Being  who  made  us — whose  power 


THE  SEA-SHORE.  205 

is  equalled  by  his  mercy — and  we  may  well  be  content 
to  leave  the  apportionment  of  our  lot  with  him.  Yet, 
if  I  might  be  allowed  to  supplicate,  I  would  say,  Let 
me  possess,  while  I  live,  the  exercise  of  reason — the 
ennobling  attribute  of  my  nature:  and,  when  the  hour 
shall  have  arrived  that  I  must  die,  let  me,  like  Rousseau, 
be  placed  where  I  can  behold  the  setting  sun,  with  all 
the  attendant  glories.  Not  that,  like  him,  I  may  be 
guilty  of  Persian  idolatry  by  worshipping  Nature  as  a 
deity;  but  that,  having  my  mind  occupied  with  the 
contemplation  of  her  indescribable  wonders,  I  may,  in 
my  expiring  hour,  admire,  and  love,  and  worship  God 
her  Creator. 

On  the  afternoon  of  my  arrival,  it  was  amusing  to 
observe  a  group  of  mothers  and  fair  daughters,  sur- 
rounding a  gentleman  who  was  seated  in  the  piazza  and 
reading  from  a  paper  an  account  of  a  scene  which 
occurred  a  few  evenings  before.  The  persons  were 
indicated  by  initials  and  descriptions;  and  it  was 
pleasant  to  watch  the  countenances  of  those  who 
looked  as  if  they  supposed  allusion  might  be  made  to 
them — the  eager  expectation,  the  half- suppressed 
breathing,  the  listening  ear.  When  a  description  was 
read,  That's  you,  that's  you,  exclaimed  a  dozen  glee- 
some  voices,  and  two  dozen  sparkling  eyes.  No,  that 
does  not  mean  me,  replied  the  delighted  girl:  but,  the 
laugh  in  her  eye,  and  the  smile  on  her  lip,  and  the 
tint  on  her  cheek  proved  that, 

"The  lovely  maiden  stands  confess'd." 
Perhaps  in   that  group  there  may  have  been   some 
lovely  creature  who  has  just  budded  into  womanhood; 
"  18* 


206  THE  SEA-SHORE. 

whose  full,  soft  eye,  indicates  a  fountain  of  all  tender 
emotions  which  exists  within  her  gentle  bosom;  whose 
open  countenance  convinces  the  admirer  that  no  guile, 
or  unkindness  will  be  found  in  her  intercourse  with 
society;  thus  affording  assurance  that  mature  life  will 
fulfil  the  promise  of  the  early  blossoming.  A  being 
so  lovely  might  wander  over  far  distant  lands,  be  fanned 
by  other  winds,  and  warmed  by  other  suns,  without 
being  forgotten  by  those  she  left  behind.  Such  is  a 
character  to  inspire  the  sentiment, 

"Where'er  your  wand'ring  footsteps  rove, 

Where'er  your  gentle  spirit  be, 
My  heart  the  favour'd  spot  will  love, 

And  bless  the  clime  that  blesses  thee:" 

and  to  excite  the  serious  reflections  that  sometimes 
occupy  the  mind  when  contemplating  the  future  of 
young  and  guileless  woman.  There  is  an  association, 
the  feelings  accompanying  the  formation  of  which 
have  been  described  as, 

"The  deep  trust  with  which  a  maiden  casts 
Her  all  of  earth — perchance  her  all  of  heaven — 
Into  a  mortal  hand;  the  confidence 
With  which  she  turns  in  every  thought  to  him, 
Her  more  than  brother,  and  her  next  to  God, 
Hath  never  yet  been  meted  out  in  words, 
Or  weighed  with  language." 

If  disappointed  in  the  expectations  she  indulges  from 
that  association,  her  condition  is  hopeless,  because  it 
is  a  "bankruptcy  of  the  heart." 

Many  persons  become  weary  of  the  Sea-shore  after 
remaining  a  few  days.     They  who  have  no  occupation 


THE  SEA-SHORE.  207 

to  engage  their  attention,  and  who  are  without  men- 
tal resources,  soon  tire  of  life  itself.  Visiters  go  to  a 
watering-place  with  high  anticipations  of  enjoyment 
from  pleasant  associations  with  many  whom  they  may 
meet;  and  give  free  indulgence  to  buoyant  feelings. 
After  a  few  days  their  friends  begin  to  depart;  the 
novelty  of  the  scene  and  of  the  amusements  has  passed; 
and  they  desire  to  seek  a  relief  from  ennui  by  a  change 
of  place.  We  should  not  be  dependent  on  the  excite- 
ment of  company  for  our  happiness;  but,  rather,  like 
the  old  philosopher,  we  should  endeavour  to  feel  "never 
less  alone  than  when  alone." 

A  few  mornings  since  I  walked  on  the  shore,  and 
saw  the  sun  arise  in  all  his  glory.  No  description  can 
convey  a  just  conception  of  the  view.  The  light  that 
was  spread  along  the  horizon  gradually  increased,  dif- 
fusing its  golden  tints  on  all  surrounding  objects;  the 
segment  of  a  luminous  circle  then  appeared,  and,  as  if 
by  a  sudden  leap,  the  full-orbed  sun  was  in  view,  seem- 
ing to  stand  forth  like  a  "strongman  rejoicing  to  run  a 
race."  It  was  as  if  Phaeton,  having  plunged  beneath 
the  Western  waters  and  enjoyed  a  night  of  repose,  had 
again  harnessed  his  horses  to  the  chariot  of  the  sun. 
The  billows  were  dashing  on  the  shore,  and  retired 
after  exhausting  their  fury,  leaving  the  white  foam  be- 
hind them.  Th«  rays  of  light,  as  the  sun  advanced, 
were  reflected  from  the  spray  in  a  thousand  combina- 
tions, unsurpassed  in  brilliancy  by  the  diamonds  that 
sparkle  on  the  brow  of  beauteous  woman.  Of  all  the 
forms  of  idolatrous  worship,  that  of  the  Persian  is  least 
irrational 


20S  THE  SEA-SHORE. 

After  a  few  hours  shall  have  passed,  I  shall  leave 
this  charming  place,  and  return  to  mingle  again  with 
the  population  of  my  own  city;  but,  amidst  the  various 
pursuits  that  may  engage  me  there,  memory  will  often 
recur  to  these  scenes  which  I  shall  leave  behind,  and 
to  the  friends  from  whom  I  have  parted.  Farewell! 
"Thou  deep  and  dark  blue  Ocean!"  I  have  walked 
along  thy  smooth  shore,  and  listened  to  thy  sounding 
billows,  and  felt  my  own  nothingness  as  I  cast  my  eyes 
over  thy  measureless  expanse.  I  have  "wanton'd 
with  thy  breakers,"  and,  when  standing  amidst  their 
raging,  have  "laid  my  hand  upon  thy  mane."  "I 
have  loved  thee,  Ocean;"  and,  in  future  life,  I  shall 
delight  to  return,  and  be  again  received  to  thy  bosom. 
Till  then,  "Thou  deep  and  dark  blue  Ocean,"  Fare- 
well. 

August  184 — 


JAMES  BARBOUR.* 

The  numerous  friends  of  Gov.  Barbour  have,  with 
the  deepest  regret,  been  informed  of  his  somewhat 
unexpected  death.  Fourteen  months  ago,  his  medical 
advisers  knew  that  his  life  could  not  be  prolonged  be- 
yond a  very  few  years:  but,  such  was  the  extent  to 
which  his  naturally  vigorous  constitution  had  re-acted 
after  a  violent  illness  during  the  past  Winter,  that  his 
departure  was  unexpected  to  his  family. 

Previously  to  four  or  five  years  since,  he  had  almost 
uninterrupted  enjoyment  of  health — not  often,  during  a 
long  and  active  life,  having  been  afflicted  with  sickness 
of  any  kind:  and,  since  his  retirement  from  the 
anxieties  of  public  employments,  his  agricultural  pur- 
suits, with  the  bracing  air  of  the  region  of  the  Blue 
Ridge,  gave  promise  for  the  extension  of  his  term  be- 
yond the  three-score  and  ten  years.  A  year  or  two 
before  the  great  political  struggle  of  1840,  his  health 
began  to  fail  without  any  assignable  cause.  During 
that  contest,  which  enlisted  the  active  exertions  of  dis- 

*The  Sketch  which  was  published,  in  a  number  of  papers,  a  few 
days  after  the  death  of  Gov.  Barbour,  was  little  more  than  a  general 
outline  of  his  private  life.  It  has  been  re -written  and  enlarged  for 
this  volume. 


210  JAMES  BARBOUR. 

tinguished  men  of  the  day,  he  yielded  so  far  to  the 
urgent  solicitations  of  political  friends  and  the  prompt- 
ings of  his  own  patriotism,  as  to  visit  different  sections 
of  the  country,  and  address  numerous  assemblages  of 
his  fellow-citizens.  The  apprehensions  of  his  family, 
as  to  the  effects  of  such  severe  labours,  were  painfully 
realized  by  his  impaired  physical  powers. 

After  the  close  of  the  contest,  he  repaired  to  Balti- 
more and  Philadelphia  for  the  benefit  of  eminent 
medical  and  surgical  advice;  and  it  was  ascertained 
that  he  had  been,  for  several  years,  suffering  under  the 
slow  and  insidious  advances  of  a  disease,  which  had, 
by  irritative  fever,  gradually  impaired  his  constitution; 
and,  for  the  ultimate  cure  of  which  surgery  could  offer 
no  promise.  Palliation  and  a  prolongation  of  life  for 
a  few  years — results  only  to  be  attained  by  the  strict 
observance  of  all  the  regulations  which  surgical  science 
prescribed,  as  adapted  to  the  disease- — were  all  that 
could  be  expected.  Subsequently  to  the  discovery  of 
this  condition  of  his  system— which  restrained  him 
from  the  active  pursuits  of  life  while  it  deprived  him 
of  hope — he  repeatedly  expressed  the  wish  that  the 
curtain  might  drop  and  close  the  drama;  as  he  did  not 
deem  life  desirable  after  the  actor  had  lost  the  power  to 
perform  his  part. 

During  the  Autumn  of  1841,  his  health  had  im- 
proved so  far  as  to  allow  him  to  anticipate  a  visit  to 
his  friends  in  this  city,  early  in  the  past  Winter.  In 
the  accomplishment  of  that  purpose  he  left  Barbours- 
ville  in  December,  expecting  to  arrive  at  Baltimore  by 
the  way  of  Richmond,  where  he  was  called  to  attend 


JAMES  BARBOUR.  211 

the  Agricultural  Convention  of  Virginia.  At  that 
place  he  was  so  much  indisposed,  from  the  excitement 
of  travel  and  the  change  from  the  quiet  and  comforts 
of  his  own  fireside,  that  he  was  induced  to  relinquish 
the  further  prosecution  of  his  journey  and  to  return  to 
Barboursville.  An  aggravation  of  the  symptoms  in- 
dicated the  progress  of  the  disease.  After  an  illness  of 
several  weeks,  attended  with  the  most  painful  anxieties 
of  his  friends,  he  was  restored  to  a  comfortable  state  of 
health;  and  was  able  to  devote  a  portion  of  his  time  to 
the  management  of  his  estate.  His  design  was,  during 
the  season,  to  visit  the  Virginia  Springs.  But,  the  re- 
turn of  Summer,  aided  in  its  effects  by  the  moisture  so 
peculiar  to  the  season,  induced  colliquative  symptoms, 
which,  acting  on  his  debilitated  system,  could  not  be 
arrested.  In  the  possession  of  his  mental  faculties, 
with  a  perfect  consciousness  of  his  approaching  disso- 
lution, and  surrounded  by  his  family,  he  died  at  Bar- 
boursville, Orange  County,  Virginia,  on  the  seventh  of 
June,  1842;  having  completed,  within  three  days,  his 
sixty-seventh  year.  Thus  a  distinguished  man — who, 
since  his  death,  has  been  described  by  one  of  the  most 
eloquent  writers  of  the  day,  as  "One  of  the  noblest  of 
the  sons  of  Virginia;  the  virtues  of  whose  private  life 
and  character  outshone  all  the  splendour  with  which 
popular  favour  or  political  distinction  could  adorn  his 
name" — -has  calmly  yielded  up  his  spirit  to  the  Great 
Being  from  whom  it  came. 

I  will  not  invade  the  privacy  of  the  domestic  circle, 
by  speaking  of  the  kind  and  loviug  Husband;  the 
affectionate  and  indulgent  Father;  the  "Old  Master," 


212  JAMES  BARBOUR. 

as  lie  was  called  by  his  servants,  who  spoke  of,  and  to 
him,  almost  with  the  affection  they  would  have  had 
for  a  parent.  I  will  not  draw  aside  the  veil  which 
conceals  from  public  view  the  anguish,  of  her,  who, 
with  all  of  woman's  devotion,  was  his  companion  for 
more  than  forty  years:  or  that  of  his  children,  whose 
reverential  love  approached  almost  to  idolatry.  Time 
the  comforter,  in  commemoration  of  whose  powers 
to  console  the  mourner  Montaigne  proposed  to  erect  a 
monument,  will  bring  to  them  his  healing  virtues  on 
his  wings. 

That  portion  of  the  biography  of  Gov.  Barbour 
which  relates  to  his  public  life,  is  indelibly  written  in 
the  histories  of  his  State  and  of  his  Country.  During 
the  last  thirty  years,  few  men  have  occupied  a  larger 
space  in  the  public  eye:  none  have  been  characterized 
by  a  patriotism  more  pure,  or  by  a  more  unbounded 
devotion  of  time  and  talents  to  the  public  welfare.  I 
do  not  propose  to  give  any  other  than  a  general  view 
of  his  public  and  private  life.  . 

James  Barbour  was  born  in  Orange  County,  Virginia, 
on  the  10th  of  June,  1775.  He  was  educated  in  one 
of  the  Colleges  of  Virginia:  and,  having  selected  the 
law  as  his  profession,  he  commenced,  at  a  very  early 
age,  the  discharge  of  its  duties.  His  success  was  bril- 
liant, and  not  often  surpassed  in  the  practice  of  County 
Courts.  He  was  unequalled  by  any  member  of  the 
Courts  in  which  he  practised,  in  the  consummate 
ability  with  which  he  conducted  jury  trials.  Had  he 
chosen  to  devote  his  time  and  talents  to  his  profession, 
his  native  genius,  his  perspicacity,  and  his  eloquence, 


JAMES  BARBOUR.  213 

would  have  placed  him  in  favourable  competition 
with  distinguished  legal  men  of  his  day.  Law  is  j  ealous 
of  her  votaries,  and  requires  unbounded  devotion  from 
those  who  desire  to  attain  eminence  in  that  science 
which  "has  its  seat  in  the  bosom  of  God,"  and  whose 
"voice  is  the  harmony  of  the  world."  Such  devotion 
did  not  accord  with  the  plans  which  he  had  formed  for 
the  direction  of  his  future  life.  At  this  period,  he  was 
principally  occupied,  during  the  intervals  of  the  terms 
of  the  Courts  in  which  he  practised,  by  agricultural 
pursuits:  thus  laying  a  foundation  for  the  acquisition 
of  the  eminence  he  acquired,  and  always  maintained, 
as  an  agriculturist. 

In  1798,  at  the  early  age  of  twenty- three,  he  was 
chosen  to  represent  Orange  in  the  Legislature  of  Vir- 
ginia. At  this  period,  the  Union  was  excited  by  the 
Alien  and  Sedition  Laws;  and  the  political  creed  of 
Virginia  caused  her  citizens  to  feel  the  excitement 
more,  perhaps,  than  those  of  any  other  section  of  the 
country.  After  his  election,  and  before  the  meeting  of 
the  Legislature,  the  citizens  of  Orange  assembled  to 
express  their  opinions  on  the  measures  of  the  Adminis- 
tration; and  Mr.  Barbour  offered  condemnatory  resolu- 
tions which  attracted  general  attention. 

He  took  his  seat  in  the  Legislature,  in  December, 
1798;  and  was  the  youngest  member  of  the  House. 
That  session  was  most  important,  exciting,  and  interest- 
ing— more  so,  perhaps,  than  any  other  in  the  history 
of  Virginia.  At  a  very  early  period  of  the  Govern- 
ment, two  great  political  parties  were  formed  in  the 
United  States — the  Federal,  and  the  Anti-federal  or 
19 


214  JAMES  BARBOUR. 

Republican.  The  Federal  party  was  supposed  to  have 
a  tendency  to  consolidation,  or  the  concentration  of 
power  in  the  General  Government:  the  Republican 
party  favoured  the  retention  of  power  by  the  People, 
and  the  States.  Alexander  Hamilton  was  the  leader 
of  the  Federal  party,  and  wished  to  form  a  strong 
Executive,  or  National  Government,  with  paramount 
influence  over  the  separate  States.  He  did  not  believe 
that  the  Government  could  exist  without  a  strong 
Executive.  Misled  by  the  examples  of  Republics  in 
former  times,  he  was  convinced  that  institutions, 
strictly  democratic,  could  not  be  maintained;  and  he 
exerted  his  brilliant  powers  in  support  of  his  views. 
He  had  seen  the  defects  of  the  Confederation,  which, 
as  a  system  of  government,  was  no  stronger  than  a 
rope  of  sand;  and  he  had  not  sufficiently  appreciated 
the  principles  of  the  Constitution  which  was  proposed. 
He  did  not  make  the  proper  distinction  between  the 
citizens  of  all  the  old  Republics,  who  were  unen- 
lightened and  became  an  easy  prey  to  aspiring  dema- 
gogues; and  the  people  of  our  country  who  brought 
with  them  to  our  shores  the  religion,  the  civilization, 
the  science,  and  the  arts  of  England.  Any  compari- 
sons between  the  two  periods,  as  to  the  capacity  of  the 
People  for  self-government,  were  obviously  unfair. 

Thomas  Jefferson  was  the  leader  of  the  Republican 
party,  which  controverted  the  doctrines  of  the  Hamil- 
tonian  school,  and  contended  that  the  greatest  danger 
to  the  Republic  was  to  be  apprehended  from  the  con- 
centration of  power  in  the  Executive.  They  had 
confidence  in  the  enlightened  spirit  of  the  age,  and 


JAMES  BARBOUR.  215 

were  willing  to  confide  the  fate  of  the  Republic  to  the 
good  sense  and  integrity  of  the  People.  Although 
Mr.  Jefferson,  on  account  of  the  distinguished  part  he 
sustained  in  that  ever  memorable  contest,  was  the  ac- 
knowledged Republican  leader,  he  did  not  fail  to  re- 
ceive efficient  aid.  The  political  creed  of  James 
Madison  was  Republican.  He  maintained  that  the 
Constitution,  as  written,  should  be  inviolate;  that  the 
rights  of  the  States,  as  defined  in  the  Constitution, 
should  be  preserved;  that  doubtful  powers  should  not 
be  exercised  by  the  Federal  Government;  that  defects 
in  the  Constitution  should  be  corrected  by  amend- 
ments, in  the  manner  prescribed  by  that  instrument. 

Such  was  the  condition  of  political  parties,  when, 
in  1798,  two  Acts,  called  the  Alien  and  Sedition  Laws, 
were  passed  by  Congress.  The  Republicans  opposed 
the  first,  because  it  gave  the  Executive  power  to  judge 
and  decide,  without  a  resort  to  the  legal  tribunals  of 
the  country,  and  without  proof  in  strict  conformity 
with  the  requisitions  of  law.  They  opposed  the  second, 
because  it  restricted  the  liberty  of  speech,  and  of  the 
press;  and  was  an  arbitrary  interference  with  the  rights 
of  the  citizen. 

This  outline  is  presented  in  order  to  shew  the  con- 
dition of  political  parties,  and  the  public  excitement  in 
Virginia,  when,  in  1798,  Mr.  Barbour  took  a  seat  in 
the  Legislature.  The  separating  line  between  the  two 
parties  was  marked,  during  that  Session,  by  the  ques- 
tion involving  constitutional  principles,  Had  Congress 
the  power,  by  the  Constitution,  to  enact  the  Alien  and 
Sedition  Laws?    The  discussion  of  this  question  was 


216  JAMES  BARBOUR. 

introduced  by  the  presentation,  by  John  Taylor,  of 
Caroline,  of  a  Preamble  and  Resolutions,  prepared 
by  Mr.  Madison,*  who,  although  not  a  member 
of  the  Legislature,  performed  this  important  duty  in 
compliance  with  the  urgent  solicitations  of  his  political 
friends.  Such  is  the  origin  of  the  celebrated  Resolu- 
tions of  1798.  Six  members  of  the  Republican  party 
were  selected  to  advocate  them  on  the  floor  of  the 
House;  and  Mr.  Barbour  was  one  of  the  chosen  ad- 
vocates. He  delivered  a  speech  in  their  defence,  prin- 
cipally in  reply  to  George  Keith  Taylor,  of  Prince 
George,  who  was  the  champion  of  the  Federal  party. 
The  speech,  young  and  inexperienced  as  he  then  was, 
produced  a  strong  impression,  and  was  regarded  as  a 
veiy  remarkable  effort;  and,  at  the  close  of  the  Session, 
he  had  acquired  a  reputation  as  a  statesman,  not  often 
attained  at  the  age  of  twenty-three. 

Mr.  Barbour  was  a  member  of  the  Legislature  for 
successive  years;  but  continued   the  practice   of  the 

*See  a  pamphlet  entitled,  "Eulogium  on  the  Life  and  Character 
of  James  Madison:  By  James  Barbour,  1836." 

Mr.  Madison  was  elected  to  the  Legislature,  in  1799,  and  was  the 
author  of  the  celebrated  Resolutions  of  that  year;  which,  with  those 
of  '98,  became  a  political  textbook.  Patrick  Henry  was  elected 
to  the  Legislature  of  '99,  in  order  to  lead  the  minority  in  opposition 
to  the  principles  of  the  Resolutions  of  '98.  His  genius,  eloquence, 
and  popularity  would  have  made -him  a  formidable  antagonist  to  Mr. 
Madison;  but,  they  did  not  meet  in  the  Legislature — Henry  having 
died  in  June,  1799.  It  cannot  be  difficult  to  decide  who  would  have 
been  the  victor,  if  they  had  met  in  argument  on  great  constitutional 
questions.  Henry's  torrent-like  eloquence  would,  at  first,  have 
swept  away  every  opposing  barrier:  but  the  mild  and  persuasive  elo- 
quence of  Madison,  aided  by  great  powers  of  argumentation,  would 
have  taken  captive  the  judgment  of  his  audience. 


JAMES  BARBOUR,  217 

Law,  during  the  recesses,  until  he  was  elected  Governor 
of  Virginia.  His  labours  while  in  the  Legislature  have 
identified  his  name,  in  the  Code  of  Virginia,  with 
many  important  Acts:  among  them,  those  relating  to 
the  Public  Lands,  the  Literary  Fund,  and  the  suppres- 
sion of  Duelling.  He  was  the  father  of  the  law  in 
relation  to  Duelling.  The  first  time  he  presented  the 
Bill,  it  passed  the  lower  House,  but  was  lost  in  the 
Senate.  At  the  succeeding  Session  he  was  elected 
Speaker;  and  the  same  Bill — which  could  not  be 
brought  forward  by  the  Speaker — was  offered  by  a  friend 
of  his,  and  became  a  law.  The  Bill  was  ably  de- 
fended by  him  in  Committee  of  the  Whole,  where  his 
position  as  Speaker  of  the  House,  did  not,  ex  officio , 
prevent  him  from  addressing  the  Committee.  He  was 
elected  Speaker  in  1808.  His  commanding  personal 
appearance,  his  almost  intuitive  judgment  of  character, 
his  dignity,  and  his  eloquence,  eminently  qualified  him 
to  discharge  the  duties  of  that  station  in  such  manner 
as  to  secure  the  respect  of  all  parties.  During  his  con- 
tinuance in  the  House,  he  acquired  great  popularity 
and  influence;  and  eloquently  and  successfully  opposed 
the  employment  of  power,  gained  by  political  revolu- 
tions, as  an  instrument  of  general  political  proscription. 
Throughout  his  long  public  life,  he  always  maintained 
the  character  of  a  liberal  and  enlightened  patriot. 

Mr.  Barbour  continued  to  occupy  the  Speaker's  chair 
until  the  Session  of  1811,  and  '12,  when  he  was 
elected,  without  opposition,  Governor  of  Virginia. 
The  circumstances  which  attended  the  early  period  of 
his  Administration,  called  into  action  all  the  firmness 
19* 


218  JAMES  BARBOUK. 

and  manly  independence  of  his  character;  as  the  adop- 
tion of  measures,  prompt  and  decisive,  was  required 
by  the  exigencies  of  the  crisis.  War  was  declared 
against  Great  Britain,  in  June,  1812,  on  account  of 
her  impressment  of  American  seamen — her  doctrine 
and  system  of  blockade— her  adoption  and  continu- 
ance of  the  Orders  in  Council.  Virginia  was  without 
preparation,  by  legislative  acts,  for  her  own  defence: 
and  Gov.  Barbour  "armed  the  local  militia,  and  ar- 
ranged a  levy  en  masse,  so  as  to  be  prepared  for  action 
at  a  moment's  warning."  In  January,  1813,  hostile 
appearances  induced  him  to  call  out  the  militia,  and 
he  proceeded  with  them  to  Norfolk.  Acting  on  his 
official  responsibility,  he  called  into  service  a  military 
force  for  the  protection  of  Richmond.  When  the  State 
Treasury  was  exhausted,  he  borrowed  from  the  Banks 
of  Richmond  $200,000,  giving  in  pledge  his  individual 
responsibility.  "He  took  the  field  in  person,  and  dis- 
charged the  combined  duties  of  Commander-in-Chief 
and  Governor."  His  conduct  received  opposition  and 
censure,  which,  as  he  was  discharging  a  high  constitu- 
tional duty,  he  fearlessly  disregarded;  and  the  success 
of  his  measures  vindicated  the  soundness  of  his  judg- 
ment. Censure  was  followed  by  popular  applause: 
the  Legislature  sanctioned  his  measures,  and  testified 
approval  by  re-election,  with  but  feeble  opposition. 
This  was  the  most  responsible  and  important  portion 
of  his  political  life.  Under  trying  circumstances,  he 
exercised  that  cool  self-reliance  which  is  one  of  the 
attributes  of  genius.  He  afforded  an  illustration  of 
the  truth  of  the  remark,  that,  "Mankind  judge  mea- 


JAMES  BARBOUR.  219 

sures  by  events:  they  connect  wisdom  with  good  for- 
tune, and  folly  with  disaster." 

On  the  expiration  of  his  second  gubernatorial  term, 
Gov.  Barbour  was  elected  Senator  of  the  United  States; 
having  had  as  his  competitor  for  that  honourable 
position  a  distinguished  citizen,  who  has  gone  down  to 
the  grave,  leaving  behind  him  an  imperishable  name  as 
a  lawyer,  an  orator,  and  a  man  of  letters;  in  com- 
memoration of  whose  genius,  eloquence,  and  learning, 
Mr.  Adams*  pronounced,  at  the  time  of  his  death,  an 
admirable  eulogy  in  the  Hall  of  Representatives;  "He 
was  never  a  member  of  this  House;  but  if  we  should 
erect  a  statue  to  his  memory,  we  might  place  on  it  the 
words  which  were  inscribed  on  that  of  Moliere  in  the 
Hall  of  the  French  Academy,  'Nothing  was  wanted 
to  his  glory;  he  was  wanted  to  our's.'  " 

*The  following  lines  of  Cowley  on  Hobbes,  may  be  applied  to 
Mr.  Adams,  who,  at  the  age  of  seventy-seven — after  having  passed 
half  a  century  in  the  service  of  his  country — retains  the  intellectual 
vigour  of  middle  life.  The  philosopher  of  Malmsbury  lived  to 
attain  extreme  old  age,  with  unimpaired  mental  powers.  At  eighty- 
seven,  he  published  the  Odyssey  in  English  verse;  at  eighty-eight, 
he  published  a  similar  translation  of  the  Iliad: 

"Nor  can  the  snow  whieh  now  cold  age  does  shed 

Upon  thy  rev'rend  head, 
Quench  or  allay  the  noble  fires  within; 

But  all  that  thou  hast  been, 
And  all  that  youth  can  be,  thou'rtyet: 

So  fully  still  dost  thou 
Enjoy  the  manhood  and  the  bloom  of  wit, 
And  all  the  natural  heat,  but  not  the  fever  too. 
So  contraries  on  ^Etna's  top  conspire: 
The  embolden'd  snow  next  to  the  flame  does  sleep. 
To  things  immortal  time  can  do  no  wrong; 
And  that  which  never  is  to  die,  forever  must  be  young." 


220  JAMES  BARBOUR. 

The  reputation  Gov.  Barbour  had  acquired,  during 
his  connexion  with  public  affairs  in  Virginia,  was  not 
confined  to  that  State.  He  was  well  and  extensively 
known  when  he  appeared  in  the  Senate  Chamber. 
It  is  not  proposed  to  trace,  in  detail,  the  very  important 
and  influential  part  he  sustained  while  a  member  of 
that  distinguished  body  which  contained  many  of  the 
most  eminent  men  of  the  country.  His  moral,  mental, 
and  personal  qualities  eminently  enabled  him  to  occupy 
a  high  position  in  the  Senate  At  different  periods,  he 
was  Chairman  of  the  Military  Committee,  of  the 
Committee  on  Foreign  Affairs,  and  President  pro.  tern. 
of  the  Senate.  He  bore  a  conspicuous  part  in  the 
proceedings  involved  in  Finance,  the  West  India 
Trade,  and  the  Missouri  Question. 

In  1820,  the  Territory  of  Missouri  applied  for  admis- 
sion into  the  Union.  On  the  discussion  of  this  ques- 
tion in  Congress,  an  amendment  was  offered,  "ordaining 
and  establishing  that  there  shall  be  neither  slavery  nor 
involuntary  servitude  in  said  State."  By  virtue  of  an 
Act  of  a  former  Congress,  the  introduction  of  slavery 
into  the  North-West  Territory  had  been  prohibited. 
It  was  also  excluded  from  States,  subsequently  admitted 
into  the  Union,  which  were  formed  from  portions  of 
that  Territory.  But,  Territories  in  which  slavery 
existed,  had  been  admitted  into  the  Union  without  the 
restriction — among  them,  Louisiana.  Missouri  formed 
part  of  the  Louisiana  Territory,  which  was  ceded  by 
France  to  the  United  States,  in  1803.  Ohio,  Indiana, 
and  Illinois  were  admitted  with  the  restriction;  because 
slavery,  by  a  previous  legistative  Act  of  1787,  under 


JAMES  BARBOUR.  221 

the  Confederation,  had  been  excluded  from  the  North- 
West  Territory.*  Kentucky,  Tennessee,  Louisiana, 
Mississippi,  and  Alabama,  had  been  admitted  without 
the  restriction,  as  they  were  fonned  from  States  or 
Territories  in  which  slavery  existed  at  the  time  of 
admission. 

The  discussion  of  this  question — thus  concisely 
stated — -produced  great  excitement,  and  threatened 
most  disastrous  results.  President  Monroe  had  fre- 
quent consultations  with  Messrs.  Clay,  Lowndes,  Bar- 
bour, and  other  distinguished  members  of  Congress,  in 
order  to  attempt  to  arrange  a  compromise  of  the  diffi- 
culties. Mr.  Clay  exerted  talents  and  eloquence  which 
would  have  conferred  honour  on  Greece  and  Rome  in 
their  proudest  days;  efforts  which  entitle  him  to  the 
lasting  gratitude  of  his  country,  and  acquired  for  him 
the  name  "Pacificator" — a  name  more  noble  than  that 
of  Emperor.  The  one  may  be  the  accident  of  birth: 
the  other  can  only  be  attained  by  the  combined  efforts 
of  genius  and  patriotism.  While  Gov.  Barbour  was 
faithful  to  the  interests  of  the  South,  he  was  not  un- 
mindful of  the  general  welfare;  and  compromise  and 
conciliation  were  objects  at  which  he  constantly  aimed. 
Dark  and  portentous  were  the  clouds  which  then  hung 
over  the  Republic.  Let  his  memory  be  enshrined  in 
the  grateful  recollections  which  belong  to  those  who 
adjusted  a  momentous  question — a  question,  not  only 
involving  the  existence  of  one  Government,  but  the 
interests  of  the  world. 

*See,  Laws  of  the  United  States,  Vol.  1.  p.  480,  Art.  6. 


222  JAMES  EARBOTJR. 

He  was  elected  to  the  Senate  for  two  successive 
terms;  and  vacated  the  seat  during-  the  second,  by  ac- 
cepting the  appointment  of  Secretary  at  War  under 
the  Administration  of  Mr.  Adams.  I  have  no  know- 
ledge of  any  of  the  documents  which  issued  from  that 
Department  during  the  three  years  he  was  at  its  head, 
except  a  Report  which  he  communicated  to  the  House 
of  Representatives,  in  1826,  on  the  subject  of  the  pre- 
servation and  civilization  of  the  Indians — a  paper 
alike  remarkable  for  its  ability  and  its  philanthropy. 
He  was  taken  from  the  War  Office,  and  sent  by  Mr. 
Adams  as  Minister  Plenipotentiary  to  the  Court  of  St. 
James;  and,  during  his  residence  in  England,  while  he 
discharged  with  ability  his  duties  to  his  country,  he 
made  numerous  friends  among  Englishmen  with  whom 
he  was  brought  in  contact  by  his  official  and  social 
relations.  The  following  extract  from  the  pen  of  one 
who  was  familiar  with  the  history  of  the  period,  will 
shew  his  qualifications  for  that  station:  "In  making  this 
appointment,  Mr.  Adams  had  reference  to  those  im- 
portant and  delicate  questions,  the  satisfactory  adjust- 
ment of  which  the  predecessors  of  Mr.  Barbour  had 
failed  to  negotiate.  From  his  peculiar  talents,  temper, 
and  manners,  no  individual  could  have  been  selected 
better  adapted  to  the  duties  of  such  a  mission  than  Mr. 
Barbour.  Although  but  a  few  months  an  accredited 
Minister  near  the  Court  of  St.  James,  no  Representa- 
tive of  the  American  Government  ever  made  a  more 
favourable  impression  on  the  British  public.  The 
marked  and  flattering  attentions  which  were  paid  him, 
from  his  introduction  at  Court,  by  the  most  distin- 


JAMES  BARBOUR.  223 

guished  personages  of  the  Kingdom,  are  testimonials  of 
the  influence  he  was  likely  to  command  in  the  settle- 
ment of  these  questions,  embracing  as  they  did  the 
deepest  and  most  intricate  principles  of  international 
law."  His  Government  gave  him  instructions  as  to  the 
principles  which  should  direct  him  in  the  settlement  of 
the  questions  in  dispute,  arising  out  of  the  British 
Colonial  Trade  with  the  United  States.  His  determina- 
tion was,  not  to  allow  "the  American  eagle  to  crouch 
at  the  feet  of  the  British  lion."  The  contest  of  1828, 
between  Mr.  Adams  and  Gen.  Jackson,  resulted  in  the 
election  of  the  latter  as  President:  and,  shortly  after 
the  commencement  of  the  new  Administration,  Gov. 
Barbour  was  recalled  from  the  British  Court — too  soon 
to  have  enabled  him  to  accomplish  the  objects  of  his 
mission.  His  return  to  the  United  States  in  the  Autumn 
of  1829,  was  entirely  the  result  of  a  change  in  the 
predominance  of  political  parties;  and  occurred  in  the 
same  year  in  which  Gen.  Harrison  was  recalled  from 
his  station  as  Minister  Plenipotentiary  to  the  Republic 
of  Colombia — an  appointment  made,  in  1828,  by  Mr. 
Adams. 

After  his  return,  Gov.  Barbour  employed  himself, 
with  renewed  zeal,  in  the  cultivation  of  his  estate. 
His  interest  in  such  pursuits  had  been  increased,  during 
his  residence  in  England,  by  his  intimate  intercourse 
with  the  late  Earl  of  Leicester — better  known  as 
"Coke  of  Holkam" — and  other  eminent  English  agri- 
culturists. His  almost  continued  absence  from  Bar- 
boursville  during  the  twenty  years  he  had  been  in 
public  stations,  leaving  the  control  of  his  estate  in  the 


224  JAMES  BARBOUR. 

hands  of  managers,  must,  of  necessity,  have  been  at- 
tended with  great  pecuniary  sacrifice.  The  mission  to 
England  was  the  closing  act  of  his  public  employ- 
ments: a  close  worthy  of  one  who  had  been  promoted, 
in  rapid  succession,  under  the  State  and  General  Govern- 
ments; and  who  was  controlled  by  a  patriotism  as  pure 
as  ever  glowed  in  the  bosom  of  man. 

In  1831,  Gov.  Barbour  was  chosen  to  preside  over 
the  National  Convention  which  assembled  in  Balti- 
more to  select  a  candidate  for  the  Presidency;  when 
the  nomination  was  bestowed  on  Mr.  Clay — then,  and 
until  separated  by  death,  his  very  intimate  friend.  In 
1839,  he  was  called  to  occupy  a  similar  station  in  the 
Harrisburg  Convention,  when  Gen.  Harrison  received 
the  nomination.  With  him  he  had  maintained  rela- 
tions of  intimate  friendship  from  the  time  they  served 
together  in  the  Senate  of  the  United  States,  until  they 
were  severed  by  the  death  of  "The  Good  President." 

I  have  already  alluded  to  his  arduous  labours  in  the 
political  struggle  of  1840 — a  struggle  the  excitement 
of  which  has  never  been  approximated  in  this  country, 
except  by  that  of  the  contest  of  1800,  between  Jefferson 
and  Burr.  During  this  contest  he  repeatedly  and  pub- 
licly proclaimed,  that,  in  the  event  of  the  success  of  his 
party,  he  did  not  desire,  and  would  not  accept,  any 
office  in  the  gift  of  the  Government.  His  arduous, 
and — with  his  feeble  health — imprudent  labours,  were 
prompted  by  a  deep  and  abiding  conviction  that  the 
time  had  arrived  when  every  man  who  had  influence 
over  the  popular  mind,  should  freely  expend  his  strength 
for  the  public  good.     Had  it  not  been  for  his  well 


JAMES  BARBOUR.  225 

known  and  long  established  opinions  on  the  Bank  ques- 
tion, in  connexion  with  the  views  of  some  members  of 
the  Assembly  of  Virginia,  he  would,  on  the  accession 
of  Gen.  Harrison,  have  been  sent  to  the  United  States' 
Senate;  an  event  which — on  account  of  his  health — 
would  have  been  deeply  deplored  by  his  friends-  The 
distinguished  Senator  who  was  then  chosen,  and  now 
occupies  that  seat  so  honourably  to  himself  and  his 
State,  would  be  among  the  foremost  to  admit  that  no 
other  Virginian  had  equal  claims  to  that  distinction. 
The  pre-eminent  position  which  he  occupied  in  the 
confidence  and  affection  of  his  political  party,  in  Vir- 
ginia, was,  a  few  months  since,  publicly  and  emphati- 
cally expressed  by  Mr.  B.  Watkins  Leigh,  and  the 
Editor  of  the  Richmond  Whig.  His  name  was  men- 
tioned, during  the  last  Session  of  the  Legislature  of 
Virginia,  in  connexion  with  the  gubernatorial  chair; 
but  the  suggestion  was  abandoned,  because  it  was  well 
known  to  his  friends  at  Richmond,  that,  on  account  of 
his  health,  such  an  appointment  he  could  not  accept. 
The  last  public  act  of  his  political  life  took  place  at 
Washington,  a  few  days  before  the  inauguration  of 
Gen.  Harrison:  when,  as  President  of  the  Harrisburg 
Convention,  he  called  together  the  Delegates,  who  had 
assembled  in  Washington  to  witness  that  imposing 
ceremony,  that  they  might  exchange  congratulations. 
His  address  on  that  occasion  was  characterized  by  all 
the  vigorous  thought  and  fervid  eloquence  of  his  better 
days;  and  was  in  striking  contrast  with  his  debilitated 
and  emaciated  frame.  The  flickering  lamp  sheds 
around  a  brilliant  light  just  before  it  goes  out  in  dark- 
20 


226  JAMES  BARBOUR. 

ness.  The  noble  courser  champs  the  bit,  and  snuffs 
the  wind,  and  paws  the  ground,  when  he  appears,  for 
a  final  straggle,  on  the  field  where  he  had  so  often 
triumphed.  The  undying  soul  sometimes  asserts  the 
immortality  of  its  nature,  even  when  surrounded  by 
material  decay. 

When  in  the  enjoyment  of  vigorous  health,  Gov. 
Barbour  was  one  of  the  finest  looking  men  of  his  day. 
His  personal  appearance  was  highly  imposing.  He 
was  tall,  and — before  he  was  broken  by  disease — 
graceful,  and  erect;  with  manly  proportions,  and  strongly 
marked  features.  His  forehead  and  the  general  forma- 
tion of  the  head,  were  intellectual;  The  eyes  were 
deeply  set,  and  the  eye-brows  were  remarkably  promi- 
nent. Whether  seen  in  private,  social,  or  public  life, 
he  at  once  impressed  a  stranger  with  the  conviction 
that  he  was  not  a  common  man. 

I  have  already  alluded  to  his  eminence  as  a  public 
speaker.  A  gentleman  of  distinction  in  Yirginia,  and 
a  competent  judge  of  oratory,  told  me  he  heard  him 
deliver  a  speech,  during  the  autumn  of  1 840,  at  Staun- 
ton, Virginia,  to  a  large  assemblage,  when  he  spoke 
for  five  consecutive  hours  in  a  manner  which,  for  elo- 
quence and  power,  he  had  never  known  to  be  excelled 
on  such  occasions.  During  the  same  season  he  ad- 
dressed a  very  numerous  audience  in  Monument 
Square,  in  this  city;  but  his  feeble  health  made 
it  impossible  for  his  voice  to  be  heard,  except  by  a  small 
portion  of  the  thousands  assembled  in  that  large  area. 
He  had  but  few  equals  in  the  ability  with  which  he 
delivered  an  extemporaneous  address.     His  con  versa- 


JAMES  BARBOUR.  227 

tional  powers  were  very  remarkable.  A  mind  stored 
with  varied  knowledge  and  anecdote,  and  an  easy 
flow  of  language,  made  him  the  charm  of  every  circle. 
Like  Coleridge,  he  would  sometimes  assume  more  the 
manner  of  lecture  than  of  conversation;  and,  on  such 
occasions,  he  enchained  the  attention  of  every  auditor 
— his  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  prominent  men 
and  events  of  the  age,  at  home  and  abroad,  imparting 
peculiar  interest  to  all  he  said.  Notwithstanding  his 
personal  connexion,  for  thirty  years,  with  prominent 
public  transactions,  his  conversation  was  without  the 
weakness  of  egoism.  His  style  in  conversation  has 
been  criticised  as  wanting  in  simplicity.  A  stranger 
was  impressed  with  something  of  the  ore  rotundo  in 
his  conversation;  but  the  impression  was  nearly  lost  =on 
intimate  acquaintance.  The  late  Gen.  Taylor,  of 
Norfolk,  Virginia,  approached  him  more  nearly  as  a 
conversationist  than  any  other  man  I  have  ever  known: 
superior  in  elegance  and  finish;  but  inferior  in  richness 
and  vigour. 

The  traveller  who  passes  over  that  portion  of  Vir- 
ginia which  lies  between  Charlottesville  and  Orange 
Court-House — journeying  along  the  road  which  is 
West  of  the  South- West  Mountain — about  midway 
between  the  two  points  reaches  Barboursville;  having 
his  view  on  one  side  bounded  by  the  South- West 
Mountain;  on  the  other  by  the  Blue  Ridge.  A  beauti- 
ful landed  estate  of  seven  or  eight  thousand  acres  is 
embellished  by  a  large  brick  mansion,  which,  with  its 
surrounding  improvements,  is,  perhaps,  not  surpassed 
by  any  other  in  Virginia.     The  visiter  who  remained 


228  JAMES  BAKBOUIL 

there  a  day,  a  week,  or  a  month,  had  no  restraint  im- 
posed on  him;  and  he  imposed  none  on  the  inmates. 
He  was  at  liberty  to  follow  his  own  inclinations  in  out- 
door amusements,  or  with  books;  while  the  members 
of  the  family  pursued  their  accustomed  daily  avoca- 
tions. The  proprietor  was  on  his  horse  by  day  light, 
and  met  his  friends  at  breakfast.  After  breakfast  he 
was  employed  in  riding-  over  his  estate  until  mid-day, 
when  he  returned,  dressed  for  dinner,  and  joined  the 
domestic  circle.  After  tea  he  would  engage  in  conver- 
sation for  an  hour  or  two,  and  then  retire  without  cere- 
mony, leaving  his  guests  with  the  younger  members  of 
his  family.  Mr.  Trelawny — author  of  Adventures 
of  a  Younger  Son,  and  the  friend  of  Byron  who  closed 
the  eyes  of  "Childe  Harold"  as  he  died  at  Misso- 
longhi — when  in  this  countiy,  eight  years  ago,  passed 
several  months  at  Barboursville,  and  said  the  mode  of 
life  almost  made  him  suppose  he  was  at  the  seat  of 
an  English  countiy  gentleman.  Such  was  the  man- 
sion where  friends  often  assembled,  and  in  which  the 
weary,  or  benighted  traveller  was  received  with  a  cor- 
dial welcome  and  a  hospitable  board.  The  Sages  of 
Monticello  and  Montpelier,  were  the  neighbours  and 
intimate  friends  of  Gov.  Barbour;  and  their  loss,  when 
removed  by  death,  was  deeply  felt  and  deplored. 
When  Mr.  Madison  died,  he  pronounced,  in  compli- 
ance with  public  invitation  from  citizens  of  Orange,  a 
glowing  eulogy  on  his  illustrious  friend. 

The  esteem  of  his  fellow-citizens  for  Gov.  Barbour— 
the  confidence  in  his  undeviating  integrity,  his  political 
principles,  and  his  ability — were  never  more  strongly 


JAMES  BARBOUR.  229 

manifested  than  in  the  expression  of  opinions  of  his 
character,  during  the  past  year.  His  age — his  talents 
— his  unsullied  honour— his  long  and  distinguished 
public  service,  justify  me  in  saying,  without  disparage- 
ment to  any  other  citizen,  that  no  man  in  Virginia  had 
an  equal  hold  on  the  regards  of  his  political  party. 
For  long  years  he  was  one  whom  they  "delighted  to 
honour:"  and,  as  a  man — leaving  political  faith,  and 
party  feelings  out  of  view — he  was  supposed  to  be  the 
most  popular  citizen  of  the  State.  Since  his  death,  one 
who  knew  him  we'll  in  public  and  private  life,  wrote 
of  him  in  the  following  terms:  "Few  public  men  have 
led  purer  lives;  and  to  none,  with  more  truth  than  to 
him,  can  be  applied  the  line  of  Horaoe, 

Multis  ilk  bonis  flebilisoccidit. 

-His  private  character  was  blameless:  and,  in  the 
whole  course  of  his  distinguished  public  career,  an 
ardent  patriotism  and  noble  disdain  of  self  pervaded 
all  his  actions.  He  was  always  true  and  steadfast  to 
his  friends,  and  his  heart  knew  no  guile.  He  was  un- 
surpassed in  singleness  of  purpose,  and  disinterested 
love  of  country."  Like  every  other  distinguished 
public  man,  he  was  often  assailed  by  the  press  of  the 
opposite  party:  but  now,  when  he  has  gone  down  to 
the  dead,  the  feelings  that  were  excited  by  political 
conflicts  will  lie  buried  in  his  grave.  The  memory  of 
virtuous  and  patriotic  citizens  belongs  to  the  country, 
and  not  to  a  party. 

The  virtues  of  the  departed  patriots  of  Greece  long 
animated  her  sons  in  their  heroic  struggles  for  liberty. 
20* 


230  JAMES  BARBOUR. 

The  history  of  America  will  cany  down  to  posterity 
the  memory  of  men  of  patriotism  as  pure  as  was  ever 
offered  in  sacrifice  on  the  altars  of  that  temple,  which 
has  been  erected,  in  the  name  of  the  God  of  Nations, 
for  the  freedom  of  the  world.  Other  nations  of  the 
earth  in  distant  days,  in  their  struggles  for  freedom, 
may  adopt,  as  their  battle-cry,  the  noble  exclamation 
of  Patrick  Henry  when  he  gave  the  first  impulse  to 
the  ball  of  the  Revolution,  Give  me  liberty,  or  give 
me  death.  May  the  degeneracy  of  future  times  never 
give  occasion  for  the  American  patriot  to  invoke  the 
presence  of  the  spirits  of  our  departed  Fathers,  that 
they  may  re-  enkindle  their  own  holy  fires  in  the  bosoms 
of  their  children. 


HWSAMTY. 

Extract  prom  a  Report  made  to  the  House  of  Delegates, 
as  Chairman  of  a  Select  Committee  sent  to  visit  the 
Maryland  Hospital,  and  report  on  its  condition  and 
wants.    February  19$h,  1839. 

*********** 

Your  Committee  consider  themselves  bound  by 
imperious  duty,  -before  ^closing  their  Report,  to  call  the 
attention  of  this  House  to  the  important  subject  of 
making  provision  for  tihe  accommodation  of  the  pauper 
lunatics  of  Maryland.  A  mother  loves  and  takes  care 
of  her  children:  bat,  fey  a  merciful  principle  in  the 
constitution  of  her  nature,  sue  manifests  double  anxiety 
for  those  who  are  unable  to  contribute  to  their  own 
protection.  The  State  £of  Maryland  is  the  mother  of 
her  citizens,  and  cannot  .divest  herself  of  the  obliga- 
tions under  which  she  is  placed  to  provide  for  the  un- 
fortunate. 

The  subject  of  insanity  excites  great,  and  increasing 
attention  in  ithe  present  enlightened  and  benevolent 
age.  The  mind  is  filled  with  honor  by  the  considera- 
tion of  the  former  modes  of  treating  this  terrible 
species  of  human  suffering.  The  miserable  victims 
were  confined  in  dark  and  loathsome  cells,  and  loaded 
with   chains;   while  stripes    and   severity  in  various 


232  INSANITY. 

other  forms,  were  employed  to  subdue  this  malady  of 
the  "mind  diseased." 

In  1792,  Pinel,  a  French  physician,  directed  his  at- 
tention to  this  subject;  and,  having-  obtained  permission 
to  make  experiments  at  the  Bicetre  in  confirmation  of 
his  views,  he  entered  the  abodes  of  misery;  knocked 
off  the  chains,  and  soothed  the  irritated  feelings  of 
furious  maniacs;  and  succeeded  in  restoring  some  of 
them  to  a  consciousness  of  the  dignity  of  their  nature. 
The  first  patient  on  whom  he  experimented  was  a 
Captain  who  had  been  chained  forty  years;  who  had 
killed  an  officer  of  the  Institution  with  his  manacles, 
and  was  supposed  to  be  hopelessly  lost  to  society. 
When  soothed  by  kind  assurances,  and,  on  his  promise 
of  obedience,  restored  to  liberty,  he  employed  the  first 
hour  of  freedom  in  walking  through  the  Hospital;  and, 
as  he  looked  at  the  sky,  he  exclaimed  in  ecstacy,  How 
beautiful!  From  that  time  he  continued  to  improve, 
and,  in  two  years,  was  restored  to  society  and  the  pur- 
suits of  life. 

It  is  remarkable  that,  while  the  large  cities  of  Europe 
and  this  country  have,  during  the  last  half  century, 
gradually  advanced  in  the  knowledge  of  lunacy  as  a 
disease,  the  interior  has  not  been  much  enlightened- 
It  is  now  a  well  ascertained  fact,  that  lunacy,  when 
judiciously  managed  in  its  -early  periods,  is  as  curable 
as  many  other  forms  of  disease.  If  allowed  to  con- 
tinue without  judicious  remedial  attention,  k  becomes 
more  intractable — the  difficulty  of  treatment  increasing 
with  the  period  of  neglect.  If  we  consider  that,  by 
the  medical  statistics  of  New  York,  and  other  sections 


INSANITY.  233 

of  the  country,  it  has  been  ascertained  that  one  in 
every  eight,  or  nine  hundred  of  our  population  is  a 
victim  of  this  fearful  calamity,  the  great  importance  of 
having  the  attention  of  the  Legislature,  and  of  the 
State,  directed  to  this  subject,  will  be  most  manifest. 
The  poor  are  supplied  with  food,  clothing,  and  medi- 
cal attendance  in  our  alms-houses  and  infirmaries. 
But  the  pauper  lunatic  is  often  confined  in  jails,  and 
other  receptacles  of  misery  or  crime,  where  no  proper 
curative  plan  can  be  adopted;  and,  thus,  may  be  for- 
ever lost  to  his  friends  and  his  country.  Paupers  do 
not  form  the  only  class  of  lunatics  having  claims  on 
the  compassion  of  the  State.  The  wealthy  lunatic 
should  be  removed  from  his  friends,  and  all  the  asso- 
ciations of  place  which  are  connected  with  the  disease, 
that  he  may  have  the  most  favourable  prospects  for 
recovery.  In  private  practice,  cases  of  insanity  are, 
comparatively,  so  rare  with  any  individual  practitioner, 
that  he  cannot  acquire,  from  experience  and  observa- 
tion, the  skill  so  essential  to  the  successful  treatment  of 
this  formidable  disease.  The  advantages  to  be  derived 
from  proper  restraint,  from  removal  beyond  injurious 
associations,  and  from  experience,  are  eminently  con- 
nected with  well  conducted  Asylums. 

Your  Committee  do  not  deem  this  to  be  a  suitable 
occasion  to  remark,  at  length,  on  the  delicate  structure 
of  the  human  mind,  and  its  consequent  liability  to 
disease.  Like  the  statue  of  Memnon,  which  gave  out 
sweet  sounds  when  it  first  received  the  rays  of  the 
rising  sun,  the  mind  of  man  responds  in  melody  when 
touched  by  the  light  of  skilful   education.     If  you 


234  INSANITY. 

break  one  string  of  the  delicate  instrument,  it  becomes 
as  silent  as  the  same  celebrated  statue  after  it  was  over- 
thrown by  the  Persian  invader.  Nor  will  your  Com- 
mittee, on  this  occasion,  attempt  to  excite  your  com- 
miseration by  drawing-  a  picture  of  the  miserable  con- 
dition of  that  portion  of  our  race,  who  are  deprived  of 
the  healthy  exercise  of  that  noble  attribute  of  our 
nature  which  allies  us  to  Deity.  That  picture  will  be 
presented,  with  more  propriety,  when  this  Report  shall 
come,  for  final  action,  before  this  House.  But  they 
cannot  refrain  from  endeavouring  to  impress  this  House 
with  the  conviction,  that  it  is  only  by  the  judicious 
application  of  the  means  of  cure,  derived  from  a 
knowledge  of  the  philosophy  of  the  human  mind,  that 
restoration  can  be  reasonably  expected. 

The  attention  of  the  State,  your  Committee  believe, 
has  never  before  been  particularly  directed  to  her  obli- 
gations to  her  helpless  pauper  lunatics.  Will  Maryland 
consent  to  remain  so  far  behind  other  States  in  this 
work  of  benevolence?  Massachusetts  has  an  Asylum 
for  the  Insane  Poor  of  Boston:  the  Asylum  for  poor 
lunatics  at  Worcester,  founded  in  1833,  and  supported 
by  large  expense:  the  McLean  Asylum  at  Charles- 
town,  established  in  1818.  Connecticut  has  provided 
a  Retreat  for  the  Insane,  which  was  opened  in  1824: 
and,  in  1836,  Vermont  established,  at  Brattleboro',  an 
Asylum  for  the  Insane  Poor.  New  York  has  a  State 
Lunatic  Asylum  at  Utica,  with  a  farm  of  120  acres, 
and  designed  to  accommodate  one  thousand  inmates: 
a  private  Asylum  at  Hudson:  an  Asylum  for  the  Insane 
SPoor  of  the  City  of  New  Fork,  on  Blackwell's  Island: 


INSANITY.  235 

an  Asylum  for  the  Insane,  at  Bloom ingcl ale.  Virginia 
has  an  Insane  Asylum  for  Eastern  Virginia,  at  Wil- 
liamsburg. This  building  was  erected  before  the  Revo- 
lution; and  was  the  first  Insane  Asylum  established  in 
this  country.  With  the  exception  of  one  department  of 
the  Pennsylvania  Hospital,  in  Philadelphia,  which 
was  used  for  the  insane  in  ]  752,  it  was  the  only  one 
of  the  18th  century.  She  has  also  an  Asylum  for 
Western  Virginia,  at  Staunton.  Ohio  has  a  Lunatic 
Asylum  at  Columbus:  Tennessee  one  at  Nashville:  and 
Kentucky  one  at  Lexington.  Pennsylvania  has  been 
prominent  in  attention  to  the  cause  of  suffering 
humanity.  The  mild  spirit  of  the  religion  of  her 
founders  hovers  over  Philadelphia— well  deserving  the 
name  of  the  "City  of  Brotherly  Love":  and,  when 
she  surveys  her  Hospitals  and  other  Asylums,  she  may 
exclaim  with  the  Roman  poet, 

"Exegi  monumentum  cereperennius." 

And  will  Maryland  refuse  to  follow  such  noble  exam- 
ples?*    Let  her  rather  imitate  the  practice  of  the  good 

*  Since  this  Report  was  made,  the  following  additional  Asylums' 
have  been  established  in  the  United  States:  An  Insane  Hospital  at 
Augusta,  Maine;  Asylum  for  the  Insane,  at  Milledgeville,  Georgia; 
New  Hampshire  Asylum  for  the  Insane;  Pennsylvania  Hospital  for 
the  Insane,  two  miles  West  of  Philadelphia;  State  Asylum  for  the' 
Insane  Poor  in  Pennsylvania,  provided  for  by  a  law  of  1S41;  and,  I 
believe,  there  is  an  Insane  Asylum  at  Columbia,  South  Carolina. 
Some  action — not  decisive — has  also  been  taken  on  this  subject  in 
New  Jersey.  An  appropriation  was  made,  during  the  late  Session  of 
Congress — 1842 — to  provide  accommodations  for  the  pauper  insane 
of  the  District  of  Columbia. 

The  Pennsylvania  Hospital  was  chartered  in  1751.  This  Hospital, 
and  the  Asylum  at  Williamsburg,  Va,  are  the  oldest  Institutions  in 


236  INSANITY. 

Samaritan,  by  pouring  the  oil  of  healing  into  the 
wounded  body,  and  the  oil  of  consolation  into  the 
bruised  spirit.  In  these  Institutions,  the  observance  of 
the  Sabbath,  and  the  ministrations  of  religion  are 
not  withheld:  and  the  experience  of  late  years  has 
proved,  that  the  shattered  minds  of  such  unfortunate 
victims  may  be  led,  with  advantage,  to  the  contempla- 
tion of  the  Great  Spirit  from  whom  they  came,  and  to 
whom  they  tend.  By  her  fostering  care,  the  State 
may  cause  the  vacant  eye  of  the  lunatic  to  "kindle  with 
the  undying  energies  of  genius;  and  his  shrunk  and 
shrivelled  soul"  may  be  expanded  by  contemplations 
which  approach  those  of  a  Seraph. 

Your  Committee  refer  this  House  to  the  Interroga- 
tories and  Answers,  which  form  a  part  of  this  Report, 
for  further  details  of  the  present  condition  and  wants  of 

this  country  in  which  provision  was  made  for  the  treatment  of 
insanity.  On  the  20th  of  March,  1841,  ninety-three  insane  patients 
were  removed  to  the  new  Pennsylvania  Hospital  for  the  Insane, 
mentioned  in  this  note  as  two  miles  West  of  Philadelphia.  Between 
1752,  and  1841,  thirty-eight  thousand  and  four  hundred  patients  had 
been  received  into  the  Pennsylvania  Hospital;  of  which  number, 
four  thousand  three  hundred  and  sixty-six  were  insane.  The  new 
Hospital  for  the  Insane  has  been  erected  by  the  accumulated  funds 
of  the  old  Pennsylvania  Hospital — amounting  to  three  hundred  and 
twenty-five  thousand  dollars — and  is  the  branch  of  that  Institution 
designed,  exclusively,  for  the  accommodation  of  the  insane.  This 
magnificent  building  is  four  hundred  and  thirty-six  feet  long;  and  is 
connected  with  a  farm  of  one  hundred  and  twelve  acres.  There  is 
also  an  Asylum  for  the  Insane — the  notice  of  which  was  omitted  in 
the  text — at  Frankford,  Pennsylvania,  established  in  1817. 

In  noticing  the  different  Asylums,  the  names  by  which  they  are 
known  have  been  used.  This  will  account  for  what  might,  other- 
wise, be  considered  as  useless  repetition. 


INSANITY.  237 

the  Maryland  Hospital;  and  they  recommend  the  adop- 
tion of  the  following  Resolution: 

Resolved ,  by  the  General  Assembly  of  Maryland ', 
That  the  Treasurer  of  the  Western  Shore  of  Maryland 
be,  and  he  is  hereby  authorized  and  directed,  to  pay  to 
the  President  and  Visitors  of  the  Maryland  Hospital, 
or  to  their  order,  the  sum  of  thirty  thousand  dollars,  in 
six  equal  annual  payments,  from  and  after  the  passage 
of  this  Resolution;  to  be  by  them  applied  for  the 
benefit  and  improvement  of  said  Hospital:  distinct 
reference  being  had,  in  making  the  improvements,  to 
its  future  exclusive  use  as  a  Lunatic  Asylum:  provided, 
that  the  said  President  and  Visitors  give  bond  and 
security,  to  be  approved  by  the  Treasurer,  for  the 
faithful  disbursement  and  application  of  said  sum  of 
money:  and  also  provided,  that  one-half  of  said  Insti- 
tution shall  hereafter  be  appropriated  to  the  accommo- 
dation of  pauper  lunatics  of  this  State;  who  shall  there 
be  accommodated  at  the  expense  of  the  County  so 
sending  such  pauper  lunatics;  provided,  that  the  same 
shall  not  exceed  one  hundred  dollars  for  each  pauper 
lunatic  so  accommodated. 

Interrogatories,*  by  the  Chairman  of  the  Select  Committee:  and 
Answers,  by  the  President  of  the  Board  of  Visitors. 

Interrogatory  1.  AY  hat  class  of  patients  are  re- 
ceived into  the  Maryland  Hospital:  lunatics  exclusively; 
if  not,  what  other  patients? 

*These  Interrogatories  and  Answers — which  form  part  of  the  Re- 
port— are  inserted  because  they  give,  in  part,  a  concise  history  of 
the  Institution.  The  history  will  be  made  more  complete  by  adding 
the  following  list  of  Laws  and  Resolutions,  prepared,  by  request,  by 

21 


238  INSANITY. 

Answer.  By  the  law  of  1828,  all  patients  are  to 
be  admitted,  excepting  those  afflicted  with  contagious 

David  Ridgely,  Esq.,  late  librarian  of  the  Maryland  State  Library. 
The  provision  for  lunatics  of  this  State  does  not  afford  accommoda- 
tion for  the  whole  of  that  unfortunate  class  of  our  citizens:  but,  in 
the  present  embarrassed  condition  of  the  State  finances,  nothing 
further  can  be  accomplished.  It  will  be  the  duty  of  the  friends  of 
humanity,  at  some  more  propitious  period,  to  bring  this  subject  be- 
fore the  Legislature;  and,  as  an  article  for  future  reference  to  aid  in 
the  accomplishment  of  this  object,  the  following  list  of  Laws  and 
Resolutions  was  obtained,  that  a  condensed  view  of  legislation  in 
Maryland,  in  relation  to  insanity,  might  be  presented. 

Laws  and  Resolutions  in  relation  to  the  Maryland  Hospital: 
Laws. 
Sec.  7.  A  temporary  hospital  to  be  erected,  &c, 
$8000  to  be  applied  to  the  establishment  of,  &c. 
Sec.  7.  Lunatics  to  be  received,  &c. 
A  Lottery  to  improve,  &c. 

$5000  to  be  paid  to  Drs.  Colin  M'Kenzie  and  James 
Smyth,  for  three  years;  and  pauper  lunatics  from 
the  Counties  to  be  received  on  the  same  terms  as 
from  Baltimore  City. 
1813.  ch.  21.  The  Chancellor,  on  proper  application,  to  commit 
lunatics  and  idiots  to  the  Maryland  Hospital. 

1816.  ch.  156.     Maryland  Hospital  incorporated,   and  a  President 

and  Board  of  Visitors  appointed. 

1817.  ch.    78.     Levy  Courts  authorized  to  remove  pauper  lunatics 

from  the  Counties  to  the  Maryland  Hospital:  and 
providing  that  the  Counties  pay  $100  per  annum 
for  each  pauper  lunatic  so  removed. 

1824.  ch.  49.  What  description  of  persons  to  be  considered  pauper 
lunatics. 

1826.  ch.  259.  Buildings  to  be  erected,  &c:  and  authorizing  the 
conveyance  of  the  claims  of  the  City  of  Baltimore 
to  the  Maryland  Hospital,  to  the  President  and 
Board  of  Visitors  of  said  Hospital:  in  virtue  of 
which  Act,  the  Hospital  became  the  property  of 
the  State  of  Maryland. 


1793. 

ch. 

57. 

1797. 

ch. 

102. 

1797. 

ch. 

114. 

1808. 

ch. 

106. 

1811. 

ch. 

140. 

INSANITY.  239 

diseases.  The  Institution  has,  however,  from  several 
causes,  become  more  a  Lunatic  Asylum  than  a 
general  Hospital:  1st.  On  account  of  the  establish- 
ment of  the  Infirmary;  2d.  Because  patients,  with 
ordinary  diseases,  do  not  like  to  be  in  an  Insane  Hos- 
pital ,  for  fear  of  the  character  of  insanity  being  fixed 
upon  them. 

Inter.  2.  What  number  of  lunatics  were  in  the 
Hospital  when  it  came  into  your  possession  in  1834; 
and  what  number  now? 

Ans.  The  Board  of  Directors  took  charge  of  the 
Maryland  Hospital,  1st  January,  1834.     At  that  time 

1S27.  ch.  205.     Incorporating  the  Maryland  Hospital  as  the  property 

of   the   State,   and  appointing  a  President  and 

Board  of  Visitors. 

Resolutions. 
1816.  No.  45.    Drs.  Colin  M'Kenzie  and  James  Smyth  to  borrow 

$5000  annually  for  the  term  of  six  years. 
1819.  No.  52.    Dr.  C.  M'Kenzie  to  receive  from  the  Treasurer  the 

first  instalment. 
Similar  resolutions  were  passed  every  year,  until  the  six  instal- 
ments were  paid. 

1832.  No.  75.     Treasurer  to  pay  to  the  President  and  Board  of 

Visitors  $5000  for  repairs. 

1833.  No.  94.    To  be  surrendered,  on   certain  conditions,    to  the 

Mayor  and  City  Council  of  Baltimore  for  a  Lu- 
natic Asylum.* 

1835.  No.  75.  Treasurer  to  pay  to  the  President  and  Board  of 
Visitors  $15,000  in  three  annual  instalments. 

1838.  No.  65.  Treasurer  to  pay  the  President  and  Board  of  Visi- 
tors $30,000  in  six  annual  payments  of  $5000  each . 

1838.  No.  66.  The  President  and  Visitors  to  refund  surplus,  if  any: 
and  to  report  annually  to  the  Legislature. 

*On  inquiry  at  the  office  of  the  Mayor  and  City  Council,  it  has  been 
ascertained  that  no  action  followed  this  Resolution;  consequently,  the 
Hospital  did  not  become  the  property  of  Baltimore. 


240  INSANITY. 

there  were  twenty-six  patients  in  all;  eighteen  were 
lunatics.  During  the  year,  one  hundred  and  seven 
patients  were  treated  for  various  diseases;  of  whom 
seventy-nine  were  lunatics.  During  the  year  18387 
two  hundred  and  seventy-two  patients  were  admitted: 
of  whom  one  hundred  and  fifteen  were  lunatics;  thirt)T- 
two  from  intemperance,  and  sixteen  from  mania  a  potu; 
making  one  hundred  and  sixty -three  in  the  lunatic  de- 
partment for  the  year.  At  this  time  there  are  sixty-one 
patients  in  the  house;  of  whom  fifty-three  are  in  the 
lunatic  department. 

Inter.  3.  If  the  Hospital  were  complete  in  build- 
ings and  furniture,  and  free  from  debt,  would  it  be  able 
to  support  itself? 

Ans.  The  Hospital  is  not  at  all  in  debt.  It  has 
supported  itself  since  it  was  under  the  direction  of  this 
board,  in  1834;  and  will  always  be  able  to  do  so.  The 
board  only  require  to  have  the  necessary  buildings  and 
furniture  to  commence  with;  the  Institution  can  always 
keep  up  a  stock  of  furniture,  if  once  purchased.  At 
this  time  the  house  is  well  furnished  for  the  number  of 
patients  contained  in  it. 

Inter.  4.  How  many  pauper  lunatics  from  the 
several  Counties  are  at  this  time  in  the  Institution? 

Ans.  There  are  at  this  time  ten. 

Inter.  5.  Are  such  patients  paid  for  punctually;  if 
not,  what  plan  would  you  recommend  to  secure  prompt 
payment? 

Ans,  They  are  not  paid  for  punctually.  In  some 
instances,  the  clerks  of  the  Levy  Courts  will  not  even 
answer  letters  addressed  to  them.     The  only  plan  that 


INSANITY.  241 

can  be  adopted  to  secure  the  regular  payment  of  the 
dues  from  the  Counties,  is  the  one  adopted  by  the 
Legislature  of  Massachusetts;  obliging  each  County  to 
pay  the  amount  due  for  each  pauper  lunatic  that  may 
be  sent  to  the  Hospital,  to  the  treasurer  of  the  State, 
at  the  time  of  sending  the  patient  to  the  Hospital. 
The  board  should  then  be  authorized  to  draw  on  the 
treasurer  of  the  State  for  the  amount. 

Inter.  6.  Is  the  price  at  present  paid  for  such 
pauper  lunatics  sufficient  to  defray  their  necessaiy  ex- 
penses; if  not,  what  increase  is  required. 

Ans.  The  sum  now  paid,  $100,  is  not  sufficient 
It  is  barely  sufficient  to  feed  and  take  care  of  them. 
For  clothing  and  fuel,  no  provision  is  made;  and  the 
expense  of  their  necessaries  may  be  put  down  at  $25 
each.  But  for  the  benefits  arising  from  the  pay-pa- 
tients, the  Institution  could  not  be  supported  at  all. 

Inter.  7.  What  number  of  officers  are  now  em- 
ployed in  the  Institution;  and  what  their  salaries? 

Ans.  The  President  of  the  Board  of  Directors,  who 
is  the  general  manager  of  the  Institution,  as  regards  its 
finances  and  its  internal  government,  with  a  salary  of 
$500:  one  resident  physician,  salary  $1000:  twelve 
nurses,  at  $5  each,  per  month:  Three  hired  women,  at 
$5  per  month  each,  and  three  men  at  $10  each  per 
month. 

Inter.  8.  What  number  of  lunatics  require  close 
confinement;  and  how  many  apartments  have  you 
for  the  accommodation  of  such  patients? 

Ans.  All  lunatics  require  separate,  and — at  times — 
may  require  close  confinement,  as  stated  in  answer 
21* 


242  INSANITY. 

second.  There  are  fifty-three  lunatics  now  in  the 
house;  and  there  are  forty-eight  rooms  proper  for 
lunatic  patients — some  of  them  still  requiring  bars  to 
the  windows.  There  are  also  ten  rooms  on  the  ground 
floor,  in  which  the  pauper  lunatic  patients  are  accom- 
modated. They  are,  however,  damp,  and  not  as  good 
as  should  be  provided  for  this  unfortunate  and  helpless 
class  of  beings.  It  has  frequently  occurred,  during 
the  two  last  years,  that  the  Institution  had,  atone  time, 
between  sixty  and  seventy  lunatic  patients.  At  one 
period  there  were  seventy-four.  We  were  of  course 
obliged  to  place  several  in  one  room,  taking  proper 
precautions  to  guard  them.  At  that  time  we  were 
obliged  to  refuse  admission  to  some  patients  of  both 
classes — pay  as  well  as  pauper. 

Inter.  9.  How  many  such  apartments,  additional, 
would  the  completion  of  the  West  wing  afford? 

Ans.  The  completion  of  the  West  wing,  and 
of  the  third  stoiy  of  the  centre  building,  together 
with  three  or  four  small  out-houses  for  the  very  noisy 
patients — a  thing  most  desirable — might  enable  us 
to  accommodate  about  fifty  more  lunatics,  in  single 
rooms  each. 

Inter.  10.  What  appropriation  do  you  now  require, 
and  for  what  purposes;  and  have  you  ascertained,  from 
competent  judges,  the  probable  cost  of  such  improve- 
ments? 

Ans.  It  is  the  opinion  of  the  board  that  forty  thou- 
sand dollars  will  be  required,  to  do  all  that  is  deemed 
needful  to  give  full  effect  to  this  Institution;  which 
should  not  only  be  complete  as  a  building,  but  should 


INSANITY.  243 

have  the  grounds  around  it  as  convenient  and  attractive 
as  the  cause  of  humanity  requires  for  such  purposes. 
A  wall*  around  the  entire  grounds  is  indispensable  for 
the  protection  and  government  of  the  lunatic  patients. 
This  will  cost  from  eight  to  ten  thousand  dollars, 
according  to  its  height;  the  West  wing  about  twenty 
thousand  dollars;  the  third  story  of  the  building  two 
thousand  dollars;  roofing  the  main  building  with  tin  to 

*The  Boston  Prison  Discipline  Society  published  the  Speech — 
which  is  inserted  in  this  volume  next  to  this  Report — with  these 
Interrogatories  and  Answers,  in  their  Fourteenth  Annual  Report; 
and,  commenting  on  this  proposal  to  build  a  wall,  say,  "We  think 
$10,000  may  be  saved  in  the  proposed  improvements,  by  not  building 
the  wall  as  contemplated;  of  which  we  have  no  doubt  they  would 
be  convinced  by  visiting  the  Institutions  at  Hartford,  Worcester, 
and  Charlestown,  where  they  have  no  such  enclosures;  and  would 
not  have  them,  if  they  could  be  built  for  nothing."  And  in  the 
Sixteenth  Annual  Report,  speaking  of  the  Maryland  Hospital,  they 
say,  "It  was  proposed  to  enclose  this  land  with  a  high  wall,  at  an 
expense  of  $10,000.  We  hope  this  part  of  the  plan  has  been  aban- 
doned, as  it  would  be  money  worse  than  thrown  away;  giving  the 
place  a  prison-like  appearance,  without  the  least  utility."  Perhaps 
there  may  be  something  in  the  local  circumstances  of  this  Institution 
which  induced  the  Board  of  Visitors  to  recommend  the  erection  of  the 
enclosure.  At  the  new  Pennsylvania  Hospital  for  the  Insane,  two 
miles  West  of  Philadelphia — and  to  which  is  attached  a  farm  of  one 
hundred  and  twelve  acres — forty-one  acres  are  appropriated  as  a 
pleasure  ground  and  vegetable  garden,  and  are  surrounded  by  a  sub- 
stantial stone  wall.  The  wall  is  five  thousand  four  hundred  and 
eighty  feet  long,  and  ten  and  a  half  feet  high.  But,  from  the  char- 
acter of  the  ground,  only  a  small  portion  of  the  wall  can  be  seen 
from  any  one  position;  and  this  circumstance,  in  connexion  with  the 
size  of  the  enclosure,  prevents  what  might  otherwise  arise — the 
unpleasant  impression  of  restraint  upon  the  patients.  The  West 
side  does  not  seem  to  be  enclosed,  as,  from  its  position,  the  wall  does 
not  appear;  and  the  patients  have  a  beautiful  view  of  "two  public 
roads,  the  farm  and  meadow,  a  mill-race,  a  fine  stream  of  running 
water,  and  two  large  manufactories." 


244  INSANITY. 

render  it  fire-proof,  furniture,  and  improvement  to  the 
grounds,  about  eight  thousand  dollars;  in  all  forty 
thousand  dollars. 

Inter.  1 1 .  What  sums  have  been  appropriated  for 
the  Institution,  since  it  came  into  your  possession?  In 
what  years  made,  and  how  applied? 

Ans.  The  sum  of  $5000  was  given,  when  the 
Institution  first  went  into  operation,  for  repairs,  furni- 
ture, and  provisions  to  commence  with.  This  sum 
proved  inadequate  for  the  repairs  and  furniture,  and  a 
debt  of  near  $7000  was  contracted  for  repairs  and 
furniture.  To  liquidate  this  debt,  to  purchase  a  lot  of 
ground  of  three  acres  and  a  half,  to  build  furnaces,  six  in 
number,  and  to  construct  fourteen  new  rooms  in  the 
East  wing,  the  Legislature  granted,  in  1836,  fifteen 
thousand  dollars,  payable  in  three  annual  instalments. 
The  money  was  borrowed  in  anticipation,  at  a  discount, 
to  make  the  necessary  arrangements;  and  consequently 
the  Hospital  did  not  receive  the  full  benefit  of  the 
appropriation. 

Inter.  12.  What  number  of  patients  had  you  the 
first  year  of  your  administration;  what  the  receipts  from 
them;  and  what  the  number  of  patients  and  the  re- 
ceipts the  past  year? 

Ans.  The  total  number  of  patients  during  the  first 
year,  1834,  was  one  hundred  and  seven.  And  the 
amount  received  by  the  Hospital  for  board  of  patients 
$4500.  Six  hundred  dollars  were  given  for  provisions 
in  this  year,  out  of  the  first  sum  appropriated.  Not 
one  dollar  has  been  required  since  for  the  support  of 
the  patients.     During  the  last  year  two  hundred  and 


INSANITY.  245 

seventy-two  patients  have  enjoyed  the  benefit  of  the 
Hospital;  and  the  total  receipts  are  about  $15,000,  with 
good  debts  of  about  $3000  more,  which  will  be  col- 
lected during  this  year.  The  disbursements,  and  the 
responsibilities  of  the  house  amount  to  about  the  same 
sum. 

Inter.  13.  Does  the  want  of  accommodations  com- 
pel you  to  refuse  admission  to  patients? 

Ans.  We  have  been  obliged  to  refuse  patients — 
some  from  the  Counties — and  some  were  good  pay- 
patients.  The  Institution  cannot,  in  any  way,  accom- 
modate more  than  ten  or  twelve  pauper  lunatics;  and 
it  is  presumed  there  are  at  this  time  about  one  hundred 
in  the  State  of  Maryland.  Some  are  in  the  Baltimore 
County  alms-house,  and  other  alms-houses  of  the 
several  Counties;  whilst  others  are  in  jails,  or  confined 
among  their  friends.  This  is  a  matter  of  deep  soli- 
citude to  all  benevolent  persons  who  have  turned  their 
attention  to  the  care  of  lunatic  paupers  in  this  State; 
and  it  is  hoped  the  wisdom  and  benevolence  of  our 
Legislature  will  not  be  less  conspicuous  for  this  charity 
than  Massachusetts,  Vermont,  Ohio,  New  York,  Penn- 
sylvania, Virginia,  and  some  other  States,  which  have 
given,  and  still  give,  much  attention  to  this  subject. 

Inter.  14.  Would  you  advise  the  construction  of  a 
wall  around  the  Hospital  ground;  if  so,  for  what 
reasons,  and  what  the  probable  cost? 

Ans.  A  wall  around  the  grounds  of  the  Institution  is 
all  important,  not  only  to  keep  the  patients  from  running 
off;  but  to  keep  them  from  intercourse  with  the  popu- 
lation around  the  Hospital.  The  cost,  as  stated  above, 
would  be  about  eight  or  ten  thousand  dollars. 


246  INSANITY. 

Inter.  15.  Would  you  recommend  that  the  Institu- 
tion should,  at  a  proper  period,  become  exclusively  a 
Lunatic  Asylum? 

Ans.  I  do  urgently  recommend  that  the  Institution 
should  be  made  subservient  only  to  the  treatment  of 
lunacy,  because  there  should  be  such  an  Institution  in 
our  State;  and  it  is  a  fact  well  established,  that  lunatics 
should  not  be  mixed  with  other  patients.  The  rules 
for  the  two  classes  of  patients  do  not  harmonize. 

Inter.  16.  What  proportion  do  your  lunatic  pa- 
tients bear  to  those  from  other  causes  and  diseases? 

Ans.  We  have  at  this  time  sixty- one  patients  in  the 
house;  of  whom  fifty- three  are  lunatic,  and  mania  a 
potu  patients. 


SPEECH  ON  INSANITY, 

Delivered  in  the  House  of  Delegates,  in  support  of  the 
preceding  Report.    March  13th,  1839. 

Mr.  Speaker: 

I  appear  with  great  reluctance,  at  this  late 
hour,  before  this  House,  the  members  of  which  must 
be  already  exhausted  by  the  important  and  protracted 
discussions  of  the  morning.  But,  Sir,  as  it  seems  to 
be  the  desire  of  honourable  members  that  this  Report 
should,  at  this  time,  receive  their  attention,  I  waive  all 
personal  considerations,  and  proceed  with  the  discussion. 
I  am  proud  to  adopt  as  a  maxim  for  the  regulation 
of  my  conduct,  the  line  of  Terence  which  was  re- 
ceived with  boundless  applause  when  first  spoken  on 
a  Roman  stage, 

Homo  sum:  nihil  humani  a  me  alienum  puto. 

In  the  discharge  of  the  duty  which  you,  Sir,  as  the 
presiding  officer  of  this  House,  assigned  to  me,  I  ap- 
pear here  this  morning  as  the  humble  advocate  of  the 
pauper  lunatics  of  the  State  of  Maryland.  And, 
while  I  express  my  regret  that  greater  powers  than 
those  I  may  possess  are  not  brought  to  bear  upon  this 
interesting  subject,  I  most  respectfully  say  to  this 
House,  in  the  words  of  Brutus  when  he  would  justify 


248  SPEECH  ON  INSANITY. 

himself  before  the  citizens  of  Rome  for  Caesar's  death, 
Hear  me  for  my  cause. 

An  equal  exposure  to  common  misfortune  unites  the 
great  human  family  in  efforts  to  relieve  the  distressed. 
If  we  were  told  that  the  inhabitants  of  a  remote  por- 
tion of  the  world  were  suffering  the  miseries  of  famine, 
our  sympathies  would  be  excited,  and  no  expense 
would  be  spared  to  afford  them  aid.  Even  the  soldier 
who  has  just  passed  through  the  tumultuous  strife,  as 
he  walks  over  the  battle-field  covered  with  the  wounded, 
the  dying,  and  the  dead,  raises  the  foe  whom  perhaps 
his  own  steel  had  pierced,  and  "bathes  every  wound 
with  a  tear." 

Sir,  insanity  is  the  most  fearful  of  all  the  calamities 
which  afflict  our  race.  Reason  is  the  great  attribute  of 
our  nature.  Hence,  it  will  readily  appear  why  the 
distant  approaches  of  insanity  should  be  perceived 
with  honor  by  the  unfortunate  victim.  An  immortal 
poet  of  England,  who,  during  portions  of  his  life,  was 
afflicted  with  one  form  of  this  malady,  concludes  a 
description  of  a  lovely  being,  who  was  hurried  by 
blighted  affections  to  the  extremities  of  despair,  with 
the  simple  yet  pathetic  words  in  which  he  appears  to 
have  condensed  all  his  conceptions  of  the  highest  de- 
gree of  human  suffering,  "Kate  is  crazed."  The  idol 
of  Ireland  of  his  day— the  great  author  of  the  Dra- 
pier's  Letters — when,  in  the  vicinity  of  Dublin,  he 
stood  and  contemplated  an  oak  decayed  at  the  top, 
and,  placing  his  hand  on  his  head,  told  his  friends  he 
should  die  like  that  tree,  had  a  sad  premonition  of  the 
fate  which  awaited  him.     The  discord  of  the  most 


SPEECH  ON  INSANITY.  249 

delicate  instrument  is  soonest  discovered  by  him  who 
is  most  accustomed  to  its  use.  Sir,  the  kingdom  of 
mind,  like  that  of  matter,  gives  indications  of  ap- 
proaching derangement.  When  the  volcano  is  about 
to  pour  forth  the  lava  which  destroys  all  surrounding 
objects;  or  the  earth  to  open  her  bosom  to  receive  the 
bodies  and  the  habitations  of  men,  the  distant  rumbling, 
and  the  mighty  throe  foretell  the  coming  doom. 

Sir,  the  age  in  which  we  live  is  one  of  progression; 
and  the  wonderful  improvements  in  science  and  the 
mechanic  arts  have  almost  entirely  changed  the  condi- 
tion of  the  world.  Amidst  this  general  advancement, 
medical  science  has  not  been  stationary;  and  one  of 
the  most  remarkable  changes  has  been  in  the  mode  of 
treating  lunacy.  Until  a  recent  period,  insanity  was 
considered  an  incurable  disease;  and  the  opinion  was 
entertained  that  it  was  a  judgment  of  heaven  which 
could  not  be  reversed  by  human  art.  And,  when  the 
judicial  tribunals  pronounced  a  person  to  be  insane,  he 
was  consigned  to  the  abode  of  the  convict,  where  his 
life  was  passed  in  abject,  helpless,  hopeless  wretched- 
ness; "in  violation  of  the  very  decisions  of  your  laws, 
by  which  you  distinguish  infirmities,  which  are  misfor- 
tunes, from  motives,  which  are  crimes."  And,  Sir,  if 
a  faithful  picture  of  the  pitiable  condition  of  the  in- 
sane pauper  could  be  drawn — confined  in  his  lonely 
cell,  deprived  of  the  sweet  air  and  light  of  heaven, 
cast  off  from  all  the  tender  charities  of  life,  forced  into 
retumless  banishment — the  recital,  like  the  lyre  of 
Orpheus,  would  move  the  very  stones  to  pity.  Sir,  I 
do  not  design  to  impugn  the  wisdom  or  mercy  of  the 
22 


250  SPEECH  ON  INSANITY. 

Great  Disposer.  I  ask  not  why  he  should  thus  allow 
a  derangement  of  those  faculties  of  the  creature,  by 
which  he  is  allied  to  his  Creator.  In  this,  as  in  other 
mysteries,  I  "wait  the  great  teacher  death,  and  God 
adore."  Above  me,  beneath  me,  around  me  are  mys- 
teries: Sir,  I  am  a  mystery  to  myself. 

The  condition  of  the  wealthy  lunatic  of  your  State, 
deplorable  as  it  may  be,  is  not  remediless.  He  can  be 
sent  by  his  friends  to  Pennsylvania,  New  York,  Massa- 
chusetts, or  Virginia:  States  whose  enlarged  benevo- 
lence has  made  provision  for  the  unfortunate.  But, 
even  he  is  separated  from  those  who  would  take  a 
mournful  pleasure  in  inquiring  at  the  door  of  the 
Asylum  for  the  victim's  fate;  and,  when  he  dies  un- 
cured,  he  is  laid  in  a  grave  remote  from  those  where 
his  kindred  sleep,  in  violation  of  that  principle  of  our 
nature  which  made  barbarians  exclaim,  when  told  they 
must  emigrate,  Can  we  say  to  the  bones  of  our  fathers, 
arise  and  go  with  us?  But,  Sir,  your  pauper  lunatics 
have  no  means  to  take  them  from  their  blighted  homes. 
The  State  has  provided  for  them  no  Asylum;  and  they 
are  placed  in  alms-houses  where  they  cannot  be  cured, 
or  confined  in  prisons,  bearing  a  convict's  chain  in  a 
convict's  cell.  You  reclaim  your  friend  from  his 
moral  aberrations  by  kindness,  not  by  severity:  when 
his  body  is  wounded,  you  allow  the  ulcer  to  heal  by 
keeping  it  free  from  irritation:  but,  you  permit  your 
lunatics  to  be  confined  in  places  where  they  are  ex- 
posed to  constant  annoyances,  although  their  sensibili- 
ties to  pain  are  exquisitely  quickened:  and  thus  forever 
destroy  all  hope  of  curing  a  mind  whose  disease  is  ir- 


SPEECH  ON  INSANITY.  251 

regularity  hurried  on  to  delirium,  and  which  should  be 
pacified  and  soothed,  that  it  may  return  to  harmonious 
action.  Why,  Sir,  the  very  dog  along  your  highways 
will  not  attack  a  lunatic.  The  same  Great  Being  who 
deprived  him  of  reason,  gives  him  a  protection,  in  the 
expression  of  his  features,  from  the  assaults  of  the 
lower  orders  of  creation.  And  shall  not  man  indulge 
sympathy,  and  make  provision  for  his  suffering  fellow? 

It  would  not  be  difficult,  Mr.  Speaker,  to  assign 
reasons  why  the  poor  should  be  liable  to  lunacy,  from 
the  circumstances  of  early  education;  the  privations, 
and,  too  often,  the  despair  of  subsequent  life.  What, 
Sir,  is  the  condition  of  the  child  of  the  poor?  The 
almost  daily  demands  of  hunger  cause  a  premature 
developement  of  thought.  The  mother,  amidst  the 
pressure  of  her  hourly  occupations  and  sorrows,  has  no 
time  to  relieve  its  sufferings,  to  soothe  its  cries,  to  "kiss 
away  its  tears."  The  food  it  receives  does  not  supply 
the  nourishment  which  its  young  nature  requires.  It 
is  not  delighted  with  songs,  and  toys,  and  "nursery- 
tales."  The  dreams  of  the  cradle  which  visit  the 
children  of  the  rich,  never  fill  its  young  mind  with 
hopes  of  the  future.  Almost  as  soon  as  it  can  walk, 
it  is  allowed  to  live  in  streets  and  alleys,  where  it 
receives  every  kind  of  moral  contamination.  Can  you 
wonder  that  such  an  education  should  predispose  the 
mind  to  disease? 

If  the  citizens  of  Maryland  could  be  assembled,  and 
listen  to  the  appeal  which  the  condition  of  the  pauper 
insane  would  address  to  their  sympathies,  I  would  be 
content  to  leave  the  fate  of  this  Report  to  their  decision. 


252  SPEECH    ON  INSANITY. 

We  represent  the  State,  and  should  feel  it  to  be  our 
duty,  to  consult  her  wishes  and  her  honour.  We  have 
this  morning  passed  a  Bill  to  abolish  the  law  of 
imprisonment  for  debt.  I  ask  this  House  to  consum- 
mate the  labours  of  the  day  by  the  adoption  of  this 
Resolution,  which  is  designed  to  provide  for  the  relief 
of  the  far  more  pitiable  imprisonment  of  the  mind. 
As  far  as  I  am  informed,  this  subject  has  never  before 
been  brought  under  the  consideration  of  the  Legisla- 
ture of  this  State.  Maryland  has  been  lost,  in  profound 
forgetful ness,  to  this  branch  of  the  cause  of  suffering 
humanity;  while  other  States,  as  shown  in  the  Report, 
have  erected  Asylums,  and  made  ample  provision  for 
their  maintenance.  It  is  time  for  her  to  awake:  not 
like  Samson  when  he  raised  his  head  from  the  lap  of 
Delilah,  with  shorn  locks  and  wasted  strength,  but  as  a 
strong  man  refreshed  by  slumber. 

Sir,  I  do  not  design  to  go  over  the  details  contained 
in  the  Report  I  had  the  honour  to  present  to  this  House. 
In  that  Report  I  attempted  to  shew  that  insanity,  when 
treated  in  its  early  stages,  is  as  curable  as  other  forms  of 
disease;  that  it  is  only  in  well  conducted  Asylums  that 
proper  treatment,  mental  and  physical,  can  be  adopted; 
(and  this  is  the  great  argument  in  favour  of  the  estab- 
lishment of  Lunatic  Asylums;)  that  it  is  only  in  such 
institutions  the  necessary  medical  skill  can  be  acquired 
by  experience;  and,  that  even  the  wealthy  lunatic 
cannot  be  properly  attended  at  his  own  home,  sur- 
rounded by  all  the  associations  connected  with  his 
disease. 

In  the  answer  to  the  thirteenth  Interrogatory  of  the 
Report,  the    President    of  the  board    says  the  Hos» 


SPEECH  ON  INSANITY.  253 

pital  cannot  now  accommodate  more  than  ten  or 
twelve  pauper  lunatics;  and  he  presumes  there  are 
about  one  hundred  in  the  State.  Where  are  the 
ninety?  Again  I  ask  you,  where  are  the  ninety? 
Sir,  when  I  tell  you  they  are  in  the  abodes  of 
misery,  or  guilt — in  alms-houses,  or  common  jails, 
or  confined  among  their  poor  friends,  where,  from 
the  very  circumstances  of  their  situation,  they  are 
utterly,  incurably,  irredeemably  lost  to  society,  I 
am  sure  your  heart  will  bleed.  Sir,  compassion  for 
the  helpless  brought  the  Saviour  from  heaven.  Com- 
miseration for  the  poor  was  adduced  by  himself,  as  one 
of  the  evidences  of  the  truth  of  the  system  he  came  to 
establish.  Sir,  you  may  close  your  alms-houses:  you 
may  turn  out  their  miserable  inmates  to  beg  a  scanty 
pittance  by  the  way-side.  They  will  not  be  entirely 
miserable;  for  their  reason  is  left  to  them;  and  they  can 
contemplate  the  beautiful  sky,  and  the  green  landscape, 
and  the  wide  ocean,  and  think  of  the  Great  Spirit,  and 
look  forward  with  hope  to  the  hour  when  they  shall 
repose  from  their  sorrows  in  the  bosom  of  the  Earth, 
their  mother.  But,  the  pauper  lunatic  has  no  light 
within  to  enable  him  to  discover  and  enjoy  the  beauties 
and  glories  that  are  around,  and  beyond  him.  The 
State  makes  ample  provision  for  every  other  class  of 
the  poor:  but  this,  by  far  the  most  destitute  class,  she 
has  hitherto  neglected.  Legislators  of  Maryland,  "lend 
me  your  ears."  Friends  of  humanity,  listen  to  my 
appeal.  Make  this  appropriation  for  the  completion  of 
this  Asylum,  and,  through  life,  you  will  think  of  the 
act  with  an  approving  conscience.  When  you  see  a 
22* 


254  SPEECH  ON  INSANITY. 

poor  lunatic,  you  will  know  you  did  all  in  your  power 
to  provide  for  his  misfortunes;  and  if,  in  the  revolutions 
of  human  affairs,  privation  and  sorrow  should  be  your 
portion,  you  may  expect  to  receive  the  tender  compas- 
sion you  now  extend  to  others. 

Sir,  men  have  ever  sought  to  perpetuate  by  monu- 
ments the  memory  of  their  names.  The  Pyramids 
have  withstood  the  storms  of  three  thousand  years,  and 
will  resist  those  of  thousands  yet  to  come;  but,  the 
names  of  their  builders  have  perished,  or  are  known 
only  in  fable.  The  same  desire  of  immortality  induced 
the  incendiary  to  fire  the  temple  of  Diana,  that  he 
might  thus  connect  his  name  with  one  of  the  seven 
wonders  of  the  world.  But,  Sir,  I  had  rather  have  the 
reputation  of  Howard,  who  passed  his  life  in  exploring 
the  abodes  of  misery  that  he  might  be  able  to  devise 
better  plans  for  the  relief  of  the  unfortunate,  than  that 
of  Napoleon,  who  built  a  splendid  name  on  crowns 
and  kingdoms  desecrated  and  overthrown,  and  on  the 
bleached  bones  of  slaughtered  millions.  Sir,  I  had 
rather  that  my  humble  name  should  go  down  to  pos- 
terity, in  connexion  with  some  plan  for  the  relief  of 
suffering  human  nature,  than  have  it  inscribed  on  the 
proudest  monument  of  stone  or  marble  ever  built  by 
the  hands  of  man.  We  only  fulfil  our  great  destiny 
when  our  lives  are  passed  in  efforts,  however  humble, 
to  promote  the  happiness  of  our  race.  Sir,  the  monu- 
ments that  have  been  erected  to  perpetuate  deeds  and 
names  will  crumble  and  fall:  and,  when  fierce  Ruin 
shall  drive  her  plough-share  over  and  around  their  base, 
the  "lliumfuit"  will  be  all  that  is  left     But,  Sir,  this 


SPEECH   ON  INSANITY.  255 

will  not  be  the  case  with  a  monument  erected  to  the 
great  cause  of  suffering  humanity.  That  is  a  monu- 
ment of  which  it  can  with  truth  be  said,  that  the 
storms  of  heaven,  and  the  waves  of  ocean,  and  the 
decay  of  ages,  shall  assail  it  in  vain. 

Sir,  the  pauper  lunatic  of  your  State,  in  utter  desti- 
tution, knocks  to-day  at  the  door  of  this  Hall,  and  sues 
for  pity.  Behold  him  there,  with  his  rayless  eye,  his 
irregular  motion,  his  ragged  vestments:  himself  a  living, 
walking  sepulchre,  in  which  his  mind  is  entombed  as 
in  the  solitude  of  the  grave.  He  tells  you  he  has  none 
to  provide  for  him — none  to  pity  him;  and,  in  tones  of 
supplication,  he  asks  the  State,  his  mother,  to  open  her 
arms,  and  take  her  outcast  child  to  her  bosom.* 

*The  Resolution  was  adopted  by  the  House:  and,  having  subse- 
quently passed  the  Senate,  became  a  law.  The  appropriation  has 
been  expended;  and  we  are  indebted  to  its  judicious  application  by 
the  President  and  Board  of  Visitors,  for  the  improvements  to  this 
noble  Institution.  The  old  West  wing,  which  was  the  original 
Institution  of  1797,  had  gone  into  entire  ruin.  This  has  been  re- 
moved, and  a  new  wing  erected.  The  third  story  of  the  centre- 
building  is  finished:  and,  thus,  the  original  plan  for  the  edifice  has 
been  completed. 


REMARKS,* 

Ox  Insolvency  with  Fraud,  made  in  the  House  of  Dele- 
gates, January  23d,  1839. 

My  friend  from  Baltimore  County  appeals,  Mr. 
Speaker,  to  my  humanity.  He  asks  why  I  am  dis- 
posed, by  this  amendment,  to  oppress  this  individual. 
Sir,  I  will  not  indulge  before  this  House  in  remarks  to 
prove  the  kinder  feelings  of  our  nature  that  may  belong 
to  my  character.  On  that  subject  I  appeal  to  my  life; 
and  am  perfectly  willing  to  abide  the  verdict  which 
may  be  rendered  from  that  evidence.  Sir,  the  misfor- 
tunes of  our  race  claim,  and  receive  deep  commisera- 
tion from  every  well  constituted  mind — every  benevo- 
lent heart.  The  judgment  of  man  is  not  unerring  in 
choosing  his  ends,  or  the  means  by  which  he  may  at- 
tain them.  That  would  be  perfect  wisdom.  No  mat- 
ter how  profound  may  be  the  consideration  of   our 

*A  Bill  was  brought  before  the  House  for  the  relief  of  a  citizen  of 
Baltimore  County,  who  was  under  imprisonment  for  debt;  the  cir- 
cumstances of  the  case  justifying  a  suspicion  of  fraud.  The  passage 
of  the  Bill  was  supported  by  a  member  from  Baltimore  County;  and 
an  amendment  was  offered,  providing  that  the  debtor  should  be  released 
by  the  commissioners  of  insolvent  debtors,  if,  on  inquiry  into  the  case, 
they  did  not  ascertain  he  had  been  guilty  of  fraud  within  one  month 
prior  to  his  application  for  the  benefit  of  the  Act.  An  appeal  having 
been  made  to  the  humanity  of  the  mover  of  the  amendment  to  in- 
duce him  to  withdraw  it,  the  following  remarks  were  offered  in  reply. 


258  REMARKS. 

plans,  they  may  fail;  and  his  heart  must  be  obdurate 
indeed,  who  would  punish  an  unfortunate  man  for 
events  over  which  he  had  no  control.  But,  we  must 
not  forget,  that,  as  members  of  society,  the  dictates  of 
humanity  are  not  always  to  direct  our  actions.  Justice 
also  has  her  claims;  and  when  the  indulgence  of  humane 
emotions  conflicts  with  the  claims  of  justice,  the  good 
of  the  whole  requires  the  sacrifice.  Sir,  on  that  prin- 
ciple society  is  constituted:  abandon  it,  and  the  social 
fabric  must  fall.  We  surrender  to  social  law  a  part  of 
our  natural  rights;  and,  in  return,  we  claim  the  protec- 
tion afforded  by  her  ample  shield. 

Sir,  have  the  mercantile  community  no  claims  on 
your  consideration?  Are  they  to  be  preyed  on  by  the 
dishonest,  and  the  offenders  be  permitted  to  escape? 
What  are  the  facts  of  this  case?  This  petitioner  from 
Baltimore  County  purchased  goods  in  the  city  of  Bal- 
timore; and  is  said  to  have  taken  them  home,  and, 
without  having  unpacked  the  boxes,  to  have  transferred 
them  to  members  of  his  own  family  to  secure  a  debt 
he  owed  them;  and  then  he  applied  for  the  benefit  of 
the  insolvent  laws. 

Now,  Mr.  Speaker,  what  does  my  amendment  pro- 
pose? It  simply  provides  that  the  commissioners  of 
insohrent  debtors  shall  give  him  a  discharge,  if,  on  in- 
quiry, they  find  he  was  not  guilty  of  fraud  within  one 
month  before  he  applied  for  the  benefit  of  the  Act. 
Sir,  is  there  any  thing  oppressive  in  this  provision?  I 
do  not  say  this  applicant  has  been  guilty  of  this  fraud. 
I  only  state  that  the  charge  has  been  made.  He  ap- 
plied to  the  commissioners,  and  they  refused  him.    He 


REMARKS.  259 

appealed  to  the  Court,  and  was  rejected:  was  tried,  Sir, 
by  a  jury  of  his  peers,  and  condemned.  And  now  he 
applies  to  this  House,  as  a  Court  of  the  last  resort,  to 
give  him  a  discharge;  and  denies  that  he  has  been 
guilty  of  fraud.  Does  the  amendment  oppress  him? 
If  he  have  not  been  guilty  of  fraud,  the  amendment 
does  not  touch  him.  If  he  have  been  guilty  of  a  dis- 
honest act,  so  flagrant,  what  member  of  this  House 
will  say  he  ought  not  to  be  punished? 

Sir,  the  honourable  member  from  Baltimore  County 
appeals  to  your  sympathy.  He  states  that  this  peti- 
tioner has  already  been  confined  in  jail  for  nearly  two 
years;  and  has,  therefore,  suffered  sufficiently.  But, 
Sir,  for  what  has  he  suffered?  Not  for  fraud,  but  for 
debt.  If  he  did  not  commit  the  alleged  fraud,  he 
ought  to  go  free;  and  I  would  vote  for  his  discharge 
without  the  hesitation  of  a  moment.  But,  if  he  be 
guilty  of  fraud,  let  him  be  convicted;  and  then  will  be 
the  proper  time  for  the  interference  of  judicial  mercy. 
Sir,  to  what  would  the  doctrine  of  the  honourable 
member  lead?  You  might  go  into  your  penitentiary, 
and  find  unfortunate  victims  of  crime,  who,  in  some 
unguarded  moment,  had  yielded  to  the  promptings  of 
their  evil  spirit:  some  devotee  of  pleasure,  who  had 
cast  himself  on  the  bosom  of  the  waters  of  self-indul- 
gence, and  was  earned  by  their  tide  over  a  precipice  as 
fatal  to  his  moral  being,  as  the  falls  of  Niagara  would 
be  to  the  safety  of  his  person:  some  husband  whose 
companion  is  mourning  her  desolation;  whose  children 
are  inquiring  with  tears  of  a  heart-broken  mother, 
Where  is  the  father  to  whose  protection  the  laws  of 


260  REMARKS. 

nature  give  us  a  claim?  Sir,  adopt  the  doctrine  of  the 
honourable  member,  and  you  may  go  to  your  peniten- 
tiary, and  open  its  doors,  and  make  its  inmates  as  free 
as  the  four  winds  of  heaven  which  blow  above  your 
head. 

Mr.  Speaker,  I  am  entirely  aware  of  the  weakness 
of  human  nature:  of  the  power  of  temptation.  I 
have  observed  it  in  others:  Sir,  I  have  felt  it  within 
myself.  With  feelings  of  deep  humiliation  as  a  mem- 
ber of  the  human  family,  I  admit  the  necessity  of 
laws  to  prevent  the  commission  of  crimes.  I  am 
aware  that  vindicatory  justice  does  not  belong  to  earthly 
tribunals.  Our  laws  are  designed  for  the  protection  of 
society;  and  they  present  the  transgressor  as  an  ex- 
ample to  others,  by  which  they  may  be  restrained  from 
a  similar  violation  of  the  rights  of  men.  At  the  same 
time,  they  endeavour  to  promote  the  reformation  of  the 
offender,  who  has  justly  been  made  to  feel  the  force 
of  their  penalties.  It  is  an  admitted  principle  with  all 
legislators,  that  the  certainty  of  punishment  would 
more  effectually  ensure  the  obedience  to  law,  than 
could  be  attained  by  enactments  more  severe,  when  a 
false  humanity  shields  the  transgressor  from  the  penal- 
ties due  to  his  crimes.  Then,  Sir,  is  it  just  to  make 
appeals  to  our  humanity,  that  we  may  be  induced  to 
defeat  the  objects  of  our  Penal  Code?  Is  a  member  of 
this  House  to  be  charged  with  inhumanity,  because  he 
desires  to  give  efficiency  to  laws  which  this  House  has 
aided  to  enact?  Sir,  while  I  will  always  be  desirous  to 
extend  mercy  to  the  unfortunate,  I  ask  for  justice  for 
the  merchants  of  the  city  I  have  the  honour,  in  part, 
to  represent. 


REMARKS,* 

Made  in  the  House  of  Delegates,  during  the  last  night 
of  the  Session,  April  5th,  1839. 

I  confess,  Mr.  Speaker,  my  astonishment  at  the 
course  of  this  debate.  When  I  left  Baltimore,  three 
months  since,  she  was  supposed  to  be  in  a  prosperous 
condition.  Her  monuments  and  her  spires  pointed 
proudly  towards  heaven;  the  sounds  of  business  were 
heard  along  her  streets  and  in  her  factories;  the  sails  of 
her  ships  were  unfurled  along  her  wharves;  the  owners 
of  her  fifty  millions  of  property  did  not  dream  of  any 
want  of  security  in  their  possessions.  But  the  argument 
on  the  Bill,  now  before  this  House,  is  conducted  as  it 
would  be,  if  she  were  in  the  condition  of  bankruptcy. 

Now,  Sir,  is  this  the  fact?  Does  any  member  on 
this  floor  seriously  believe  the  State  would  incur  any 
risk  by  the  exchange  of  bonds  provided  for  in  this  Bill? 
I  have  been  informed  that  Baltimore  five  per  cent, 
stocks,  of  recent  emission,  have  been  bought  up  by  a  few 
German  Houses;  and,  that  her  six  per  cent,  stocks  have 
always  been  at  par,  or  commanded  a  premium.     Does 

*The  following  remarks  were  made  in  support  of  a  Bill  from  the 
Committee  on  Ways  and  Means,  which  provided  for  the  transfer  of 
bonds  of  the  State  of  Maryland  to  the  City  of  Baltimore,  in  ex- 
change for  similar  bonds;  to  enable  the  city  to  pay  her  subscription 
to  the  Baltimore  and  Ohio  Rail  Road  Company. 

23 


262  REMARKS. 

any  member  here  believe  the  State  would  incur  any 
risk  by  this  guarantee?  Let  him  look  at  her  streets 
crowded  with  business;  at  her  well  rilled  and  spacious 
warehouses.  Let  him  consider  the  character  of  her 
merchants,  as  intelligent,  high-minded,  and  successful, 
as  those  of  any  other  city;  and  who  have  carried  the 
proud  name  of  your  State  into  every  port  where  your 
ships  have  entered. 

Sir,  why  does  Baltimore  ask  this  guarantee?  Because 
it  is  even  supposed  to  be  possible  that  the  State  will 
ever  be  called  on  to  pay  the  bonds?  Not  at  all  Sir.  The 
application  is  based  on  a  principle  which  is  recognized 
every  day  by  your  banks.  No  matter  what  may  be 
the  known  and  acknowledged  wealth  of  the  individual 
who  applies  for  a  discount,  an  endorser  is  required. 
This  is  an  indispensable  part  of  the  business  transac- 
tion. And  is  it  not  the  interest  of  the  State  at  large  to 
enable  Baltimore,  a  part  of  herself,  to  obtain  the  loan 
on  the  best  possible  terms?  For  this  purpose  it  is  that 
she  asks  the  use  of  the  name  and  credit  of  the  State. 

The  gentleman  from  Prince  George,  lays  it  down  as 
an  axiom,  that  the  public  credit  is  only  to  be  used  for 
the  public  good.  I  admit  its  truth,  and  contend  for  its 
application  to  the  case  before  this  House.  Sir,  the 
prosperity  of  the  Counties  is  indissolubly  connected 
with  the  prosperity  of  your  Metropolis;  and  I  tell  every 
land-holder  on  this  floor,  that  he  cannot  cripple  her 
energies,  without  seriously  affecting  the  value  of  his 
lands.  Pennsylvania  and  New  York  are  making  gigan- 
tic efforts  to  obtain  the  trade  of  the  country  beyond  us; 
and  are  pouring  out  their  treasures  like  water  to  accom- 


K£  MARKS.  263 

plish  this  object.     If  this  trade  be  once  diverted  from  our 
territory,  it  is  lost  to  us  forever. 

Sir,  the  question  of  the  policy  of  our  undertaking 
the  construction  of  the  Baltimore  and  Ohio  Rail  Road, 
is  not  now  before  this  House.  Our  predecessors  on 
this  floor  settled  that  question;  and,  I  believe,  they 
settled  it  wisely.  The  necessity  for  that  great  work 
was  suggested  by  the  enterprising  spirit  of  the  times; 
and,  Maryland  would  have  been  false  to  her  true  in- 
terests, if  she  had  folded  her  arms,  and  looked  with 
indifference  on  the  strife  for  mastery  which  was  main- 
tained by  other  States.  Sir,  our  predecessors  paused 
on  the  banks  of  the  Rubicon.  A  fter  they  have  made  the 
plunge  and  passed  the  stream,  it  is  too  late  for  us  to 
look  behind:  the  work  must  be  accomplished.  A  man 
who  stakes  his  fortune  on  an  act  must  "stand  the 
hazard  of  the  die."  Baltimore  is  the  heart  of  the 
State;  and  this  great  work  will  be  the  Aorta — the  large 
artery — -which  will  circulate  healthy  action  to  every 
part  of  the  system.  We  have  already  invested  large 
sums  in  this  work;  and,  if  we  abandon  it  now,  posterity 
must  pay  the  penalty  imposed  by  our  want  of  wisdom 
in  having  commenced  the  construction,  without  being 
able  to  finish.  Sir,  we  have  all  been  taught  from 
childhood,  the  folly  of  the  man  who  begins  to  build  a 
house,  and  abandons  it  before  completion. 

Mr.  Speaker,  I  deeply  regret  to  have  observed,  on 
various  occasions,  on  this  floor,  the  existence  of  jea- 
lousies towards  the  city,  which,  of  necessity,  must  be 
the  centre  of  our  commercial  system.  Do  members 
from  an}'  sections  of  the  State,  suppose  they  advance 


264  REMARKS. 

the  interests  of  their  constituents,  by  depressing  her? 
Are  not  their  interests  connected  with  her  prosperity? 
Sir,  this  is  no  new  exhibition  of  the  character  of 
men.  More  than  two  thousand  years  ago,  Menenius 
Agrippa  appeased  the  dissatisfaction  of  the  people  of 
Rome,  by  the  well  known  fable  of  the  belly  and 
the  limbs.  The  Counties  ought  to  understand,  that, 
if  proper  nourishment  be  withheld  from  the  centre, 
the  legs  and  arms  will  very  soon  share  in  the  debility 
which  must  ensue.  But,  Sir,  at  this  midnight  hour, 
so  near  the  close  of  the  Session,  and  with  so  much 
important  business  to  be  transacted  in  the  few  hours 
that  remain,  I  will  not  longer  continue  to  occupy  the 
attention  of  this  House. 


SPEECH,* 

Deliveked  at  Havre-de-Ghace,  May  27th,  1840. 
Mr.  Chairman: 

In  the  discharge  of  the  duty  assigned  to  me,  as 
a  member  of  that  Legislature  to  which  reference  has 
been  made  in  the  sentiment  just  offered,  I  rise  to  return 
all  due  acknowledgments.  I  ask  your  kind  indul 
gence,  while  I  avail  myself  of  this  opportunity  to  offer 
a  few  remarks  on  the  interesting  occasion  which  has 
caused  us  to  assemble  here:  interesting  to  the  whole 
country,  as  one  great  family  having  a  common  concern 
in  the  welfare  of  all  its  members:  to  us  particularly 
interesting,  as  more  immediately  connected  with  the 
great  work,  the  completion  of  which  we  this  day  cele- 
brate. There  is  one  view  which  invests  this  celebra- 
tion with  peculiar  importance  to  Maryland.     She  has 

*This  Speech  was  delivered,  by  request  of  the  Directors,  at  the 
celebration  of  the  completion  of  the  Susquehanna  and  Tide  Water 
Canal;  and  was  made  in  reply  to  the  following  toast: 

The  Legislature  of  Maryland  of  1838-'39 — The  million  loaned  by 
that  body  to  the  Tide  Water  Canal,  while  it  is  an  honourable  evi- 
dence of  their  liberality,  will  ever  remain  also  as  a  memorial  of  their 
wisdom. 

On  the  same  occasion,  Speeches  were  made  by  the  Hon.  John  P. 
Kennedy,  of  Baltimore;  Ovid  F.  Johnson,  Esq.,  Attorney-General  of 
Pennsylvania;  William  Bose,  Esq.,  of  Baltimore;  and  Nicholas 
Biddle,  Esq.,  of  Philadelphia. 

23* 


266  SPEECH. 

largely  partaken  of  the  spirit  of  the  age,  and  has  libe- 
rally invested  her  means  in  attempts  to  draw  within 
her  limits  a  portion  of  the  trade  of  the  vast  country 
which  lies  beyond  her;  and  her  prosperity  is  most 
vitally  connected  with  the  completion,  and  successful 
operation,  of  those  great  works.  The  Baltimore  and 
Susquehanna  Railroad  Company  have  lately  consum- 
mated a  work  having  an  important  bearing  upon  the 
interests  of  the  State.  We  this  day  witness  the  ter- 
mination of  another  of  her  gigantic  efforts;  and  joy  - 
fully  hail  it — like  the  bow  in  the  cloud  which  cheered 
the  hearts  of  the  early  inhabitants  of  our  world — as  the 
sure  promise  of  all  that  is  to  follow. 

I  shall  never  forget  the  first  extended  view  I  ever 
had  of  the  Internal  Improvements  which  characterize 
our  age  and  country.  Four  years  ago  I  had  occasion 
to  visit  Pittsburg,  and  passed  along  the  Pennsylvania 
Canal.  I  was  astonished  at  the  magnitude  of  the 
work.  Rivers  opposed  no  insurmountable  barrier  to 
the  enterprise  of  man;  and  mountains  were  ascended, 
or  a  passage  effected  through  their  bowels — an  achieve- 
ment more  noble  than  that  of  the  great  Carthagenian 
Captain  when  he  crossed  the  Alps.  His  object  was  to 
devastate  the  beautiful  and  sunny  plains  of  Italy;  to 
sack  her  cities;  to  deluge  her  fruitful  fields  with  rivers 
of  human  blood.  But  there  the  object  was  the  pro- 
motion of  the  welfare  and  happiness  of  man.  And, 
as  I  glided  along  that  peaceful  Canal,  and  surveyed 
the  scenery  by  which  it  is  environed — the  fruitful  fields, 
the  precipitous  mountain-sides  covered  with  the  pride 
of  the  forest,  the  flowing  river,  and  all  the  splendours 


SPEECH.  267 

of  an  evening  sky — I  was  most  deeply  impressed  by 
the  view  of  the  beauties  of  nature,  in  connexion  with 
the  triumphs  of  art. 

This  would  not  be  the  suitable  occasion,  even  if  I 
possessed  the  ability,  to  give  a  history  of  Internal  Im- 
provements, as  contained  in  the  works  of  tins,  and 
other  countries.  All  who  hear  me  have  a  general 
knowledge  of  that  subject,  as  the  works  have  been 
projected,  and  carried  on,  in  our  day.  That  history 
will  be  written  at  some  future  period.  I  shall  not 
enter  upon  a  comparison  of  the  prospects  of  trade  in 
our  day,  with  the  trade  of  former  times.  I  might  de- 
tain you  with  a  description  of  the  caravans  which  con- 
veyed luxurious  commodities  over  Arabian  deserts;  of 
the  fairs  which  assembled  multitudes  for  the  purchase 
of  the  products  of  far  distant  climes;  of  Palmyra  rising, 
as  if  by  enchantment,  with  Eastern  splendour  amidst 
steril  wastes,  but  now  without  a  tenant  or  a  lord;  of 
Bagdad  invested  with  all  the  magnificence  belonging 
to  a  mart  for  the  commerce  of  nations.  That  day, 
with  all  its  glories,  has  long  since  passed.  A  troop  of 
camels  might  suffice  to  convey  silks  and  spices  for  the 
consumption  of  the  luxurious;  but  could  not  transport 
the  coal  and  iron  which  lie  buried  deep  within  the 
bosom  of  the  earth.  The  quest  of  other  days  was  for 
luxuries;  with  that,  our  age  combines  the  useful. 

The  doubling  of  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope  by  Yas- 
quez  de  Gama,  was  one  of  the  great  achievements  of 
its  age,  and  effected  an  entire  revolution  in  the  inter- 
course of  nations.  But  how  much  greater  will  be  the 
facilities  for  trade,  when  die  perils  of  a  voyage  around 


268  SPEECH. 

the  Cape  will  be  avoided,  if  the  connexion  of  the 
Arabian  Gulf  with  the  Mediterranean  Sea  ever  pours 
the  wealth  of  Asia  into  the  lap  of  the  civilized  world. 
Who  will  deny  that  the  discovery  of  a  Northwestern 
passage,  or  a  communication  across  the  Isthmus  of 
Darien,  may  connect  the  Atlantic  with  the  Pacific;  and, 
avoiding  the  dangerous  track  of  Anson  around  Cape 
Horn,  give  us  ready  access  to  the  rich  treasures  of  the 
East?  The  experience  of  the  past  is  our  guide  in  form- 
ing anticipations  of  the  future.  Fifty  years  ago, 
philosophy,  in  her  wildest  visions,  did  not  not  dream 
of  the  accomplishment  of  what  we  witness  in  our  day; 
and,  who  will  limit  what  may  be  performed  by  the 
mind  of  man,  in  the  fifty  years  that  are  to  follow? 
The  genius  of  one  man  gave  a  new  continent  to  the 
Old  World;  and,  the  genius  of  other  men  may  ac- 
complish that  which  will  produce  as  much  surprise  as 
was  excited  among  the  inhabitants  of  Spain  by  the 
return  of  Columbus,  with  the  tidings  of  his  great  dis- 
covery. 

It  is  not  without  reason  we  have  assembled  this  day 
to  celebrate  the  completion  of  this  Canal,  and  to  wit- 
ness the  mingling  of  the  waters  of  the  Susquehanna 
with  those  of  the  Chesapeake.  This  meeting  of  the 
waters,  although,  like  another,  it  may  not  be  immor- 
talized by  the  genius  of  a  poet,  will  be  handed  down 
in  perpetual  remembrance  by  the  benefits  it  will  con- 
fer. You  cannot  pass  your  eyes  over  the  map,  without 
being  forcibly  impressed  with  the  importance  of  this 
work.  By  this  Canal  the  trade  of  the  Ohio  will  be 
poured  into  the  Chesapeake,  and  conveyed  on  her 


SPEECH.  269 

broad  and  beautiful  bosom  wherever  it  may  be  needed. 
The  immense  coal  and  iron  treasures  of  the  valley  of 
the  Susquehanna  will  find  a  ready  transit  to  navigable 
waters,  and  thus  give  profit  to  the  owner,  and  comfort 
to  the  consumer.  Why  are  the  deep  bowels  of  the 
earth  pregnant  with  treasures?  Why  are  the  inland 
fields  weighed  down  with  harvests*  which  the  culti- 
vators cannot  consume?  Has  a  beneficent  God  made 
any  thing  in  vain?  Was  it  designed  that  those  mines 
should  be  unexplored — those  harvests  unconsumed? 
The  art  of  man  here  ministers  to  the  beneficence  of 
his  Creator,  and  conveys  the  rich  products  of  the  earth 
to  those  who  require  them.  We  celebrate,  this  da}^, 
the  triumphs  of  the  art  of  man;  not  employed  in  de- 
vising instruments  of  destruction,  but  in  bestowing  the 
comforts  of  life.  Tt  was  said  by  an  immortal  patriot 
of  Ireland,  that  he  is  a  benefactor  of  his  country,  who 

*The  following  Table,  containing  a  condensed  view  of  various 
productions  of  the  United  States,  is  collected  from  the  volume  of 
the  enumeration  of  the  inhabitants  and  statistics  of  the  United  States, 
as  obtained  from  the  returns  of  the  Sixth  Census — for  1840.  This 
volume — which  has  been  issued  during  the  present  year,  1842 — can 
be  obtained  by  very  few  citizens,  and  possesses  great  value.  Hound 
numbers — expressing  millions,  or  fractions  of  a  milliori — are  em- 
ployed in  the  Table.  This  method  is  adopted  for  condensation. 
The  term,  corn,  is  used  in  the  American  sense.  In  England,  corn 
includes  all  kinds  of  cereal  grain:  and,  what  we  call  corn,  or  Indian 
corn,  the  English  designate  by  the  term,  maize.  It  ha3  been  com- 
puted that,  in  the  United  States,  four  and  a  half  bushels  of  corn  are 
consumed  to  one  of  wheat. 

The  estimates  of  the  produce  of  the  District  of  Columbia  are 
omitted  in  the  Table:  also  other  very  small  estimates.  The  Sixth 
Census  contains — it  is  presumed — the  enumeration  of  the  produce 
of  the  year  1839. 


270 

causes  two  blades  of 


SPEECH. 

;rass  to  grow  where  but  one  had 
TABLE. 


STATES. 


o  o 


?» 


2* 
S     srg 


-? 


*  s 


o? 


nao 


»  or 


Maine     . 
New  Hampshire 
Massachusetts 
Rhode  Island 
Connecticut 
Vermont 
New  York  . 
New  Jersey 
Pennsylvania 
Delaware     . 
Maryland     . 
Virginia .     . 
North  Carolina 
South  Carolina 
Georgia  .     .     . 
Alabama     . 
Mississippi  .     . 
Louisiana    .     . 
Tennessee   . 
Kentucky    .     . 
Ohio.     .     .     , 
Indiana  .     .     . 
Illinois   .     .     . 
Missouri      .     , 
Arkansas     .     . 


Michigan 


Florida  Territory 
Wiskonsin  do. 
Iowa  do. 

Total    .     . 


12, 


3 
TT 

3* 

10 
2 

1 


ro 


*2 

*TT 


Q   3 

°TT 


2* 


85 


if 

ii 


Wo 

ii 

^TT 

81 
34f 

23A 

14& 

20t9t 
21 
131 
6 
45 
39f 

33A 

281 
221 

17T3o 
41 
2t3tt 


1  3 
1T0 
1  3 

1To 

1 

U 

20TV 
20| 

9 
TT 

3^ 
13$ 

°T0 

ii 
if 
if 

tV 

1 
TO 


7* 

14f 
6 
5 

9i 
~7 

8* 

TO 

1 
TT 


377$  123  18$ 


_3_ 
1  0 
1 

l 
I? 

7 
TO 


1  ' 

It 
6  *- 


1 
24 

7 
TO 
1 
■2 
1 
7 

1 
II 

J 
TT 

1 
T9 


TIT 

i  A 

4 
7 
1 

T 
_1_ 
l  l 
l 
TT 


T 

1 
TO" 

1 
IS 


_3 
10 

1 

2A 

T90 
^TT 


1 
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1 

1 
61 


VlOf 


1 

79 


1 

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] 


6* 


9 
TO 

3f 

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30T1- 

2 

9$ 

i 

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1 

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It3 
It7 
If 

4 

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Vt 

51 

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2TV 

3 
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2 

1 


7fV  108* 


SPEECH. 


271 


before  been  produced.     He  is  no  less  a  public  bene- 

TABLE — CONTINUED. 


STATES. 

H 
o 

s 

o 

K 

II 

S"  o 

n  — s 

If 

2  o 
g  E 

P5 

8.9 

TO  o 
3l 
■  go 

4 

H 

1 

"2" 

5 
10 

2i 

1 

120 

i 

If 

6f 

4 

4 

~o 

1 

4 

11 

] 
4 
1 
7 

0  = 
►»» 

1* 

1 

1 

"3" 
T90 

3t\ 
10 

2 

5" 

3 

1 

¥ 

2 

T 

A 

f 

5 

x 

1 

2 
q  7  ' 

°>To" 

1* 

3 
4 

i 

ha 

0 
3 

60i 

[92 

34 

Maine    .     . 
New  Hampshi 
Massachusetts 
Rhode  Island 
Connecticut 
Vermont     . 
New  York  . 
New  Jersey 
Pennsylvania 
Delaware     . 
Maryland    . 
Virginia .     . 
North  Caroline 
South  Carolina 
Georgia  . 
Alabama 
Mississippi . 
Louisiana    .     . 
Tennessee    . 
Kentucky    .     . 
Ohio.     .     .     . 
Indiana .     .     . 
Illinois    .     . 
Missouri 
Arkansas     .     . 
Michigan     .     . 
Florida  Territo 
Wiskonsin  do. 
Iowa             do. 

re 
i 

ry  . 

7 
TTF 

1 
2 
3 
5" 
1 
T¥ 
2 
~5 
4 
5 

3yo 

A 

h% 

l 

44 

tV 

f 
1 

TO 

l 
40 

1 
"6  0 

1 
TO 

1 
4TT 

sV 

1 

10 
1 
1 

-J 
1 

T 
1 

l 
T 

1 
"3~¥ 

J 

n 

52 

62 

164. 

117 

194 

152 

28 

7 

To 

3 
TTT 
l 

6 

12  " 

i 

1  a" 

1 

Y 

i 

25 

75 
17 

i 

"5" 

1 
4 

1 
TI 

£ 

30 

54 
6 

2 

9 

i 
s 

i 

T"3" 

Total  .     . 

10| 

790^ 

216 

155 

36      . 

»  1 

272  SPEECH. 

factor  who  plans,  and  executes  the  means  of  convey- 
ing, at  a  reduced  price,  to  the  door  of  the  citizen,  the 
comforts  he  needs.  We  cheerfully  award  that  meed  to 
those  whose  intelligence,  and  perseverance  have  pro- 
jected and  executed  this  important  work.  We  give  all 
due  acknowledgments  to  our  neighbouring  sister  State 
for  her  kindness  in  allowing  us  to  construct  this  Canal, 
and  believe  that  the  advantages  will  be  reciprocal;  that 
she  will  be  twice  blessed — blessed  in  what  she  take,  as 
well  as  in  what  she  gives. 

It  has  not  been  my  design  to  go  into  an  extended 
and  minute  detail  to  shew  the  importance  of  this  work. 
That  duty  has  been  ably  performed  by  one  who  has 
preceded  me.  Nor  will  I  enter,  at  large,  on  a  con- 
sideration of  the  relation  of  Internal  Improvements  to 
the  prosperity  of  our  country.  That  relation  is  agri- 
cultural, commercial,  and  political.  Your  own  reflec- 
tions will  fill  up  the  outline,  without  aid  from  me. 
Our  territory  embraces  almost  every  variety  of  soil  and 
climate:  and  strength  will  be  imparted  to  our  institu- 

The  United  States  produces  four  millions  of  bushels  of  barley — 
a  million  and  a  quarter  of  pounds  of  hops.  The  value  of  the  pro- 
ducts of  the  dairy  is  thirty-four  millions;  of  the  orchard,  seven  and 
a  quarter  millions;  of  home-made,  or  family  goods,  twenty-nine 
millions;  of  the  produce  of  market  gardeners,  two  millions  and  six 
hundred  thousand  dollars.  The  quantity  of  wood  sold  amounts  to 
five  millions  of  cords. 

The  live  stock — horses  and  mules,  four  millions  three  hundred  and 
thirty-six  thousand — neat  cattle,  fifteen  millions — sheep,  nineteen 
millions,  and  three  hundred  thousand — swine,  twenty-six  millions, 
and  three  hundred  thousand.  The  value  of  all  kinds  of  poultry  is 
estimated  at  nine  millions,  three  hundred  and  forty-five  thousand 
dollars. 


SPEECH.  273 

tions,  when  internal  communications  shall  give  us  a 
home  market  for  our  various  productions;  and,  thus, 
make  us  less  dependent  on  other  countries  for  what 
we  buy  or  sell.  The  trade  of  the  New  York  Canals 
amounted,  last  year,  to  seventy-three  millions.  Who 
can  calculate  the  results  that  will  arise  from  the  general 
extension  of  such  works?  The  American  statesman, 
viewing  our  vast  extent  of  territory,  has  been  accus- 
tomed to  anxious  consideration  on  the  prospect  of  the 
perpetuity  of  our  institutions.  No  people  have  ever 
received  the  blessings  that  have  been  showered  upon 
us:  and  it  is  the  character  of  our  nature,  that  the  very 
extent  of  our  happiness  makes  us  look  forward  with 
anxiety  for  its  continuance.  The  despotic  govern- 
ments of  Europe  look  with  a  jealous  eye  upon  our  in- 
stitutions: because  they  know  if  the  serf  who  is  bound 
to  their  soil,  and  is  trampled  in  the  dust  by  the  iron 
foot  of  absolute  power,  shall  ever  feel  the  fires  of 
liberty,  kindled  by  our  example,  burn  within  his 
bosom,  "his  soul  will  walk  abroad  in  her  own  majesty, 
and  his  body  swell  beyond  the  measure  of  his  chains 
that  burst  from  around  him." 

The  Republics  of  former  times  did  not  endure,  be- 
cause the  people  had  not  sufficient  intelligence  and 
virtue  to  resist  the  encroachments  of  despotism.  But, 
our  ancestors  brought  the  religion  and  the  philosophy 
of  England  to  our  shores;  and  the  settlements  they 
planted — Minerva-like — started  forth  in  all  the  maturity 
of  manhood.  Other  empires  have  fallen  by  their  own 
weight;  and  the  same  event  has  been  predicted  as  the 
result  of  our  wide  extent  of  countiy.  True,  our 
24 


274  SPEECH. 

territory  reaches  from  the  St.  John  to  the  Sabine,  and 
from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific:  and  it  might  be  sup- 
posed that  the  bonds  arising  from  a  community  of  in- 
terests, may  not  be  sufficiently  strong  to  hold  us  to- 
gether, without  the  concentrated  power  of  despotism. 
But  the  far-seeing  statesman  has  looked  forward  to 
Internal  Improvements  as  a  strong  cord  to  unite  us  to- 
gether in  one  happy  family,  for  ages  yet  to  come. 
The  genius  of  man  has  caused  the  shores  of  Europe 
to  approach  the  shores  of  America:  and  the  genius  of 
man,  by  means  of  internal  communications,  may  yet 
make  the  remotest  citizen  of  our  country  almost  our 
neighbour.  Perhaps,  another  generation  may  see  our 
Internal  Improvements  extend  beyond  the  Rocky 
Mountains  to  the  Pacific  Ocean,  and  thus  cover  our 
country  with  blessings,  and  with  glory. 

Allow  me,  in  conclusion,  to  offer  as  a  sentiment, 
The  Valley  of  the  Susquehanna:    Nature  designed 
its  products,  like  its  waters,  to  flow  into  the  Chesa- 
peake.    We  celebrate  the  accomplishment  of  the  pur- 
poses of  Nature,  by  the  triumphs  of  Art. 


SPEECH,* 

In  behalf  of  the  Manual  Labour   School  for   Indigent 
Boys,  November  30th,  1840. 

Mr.  President: 

Your  kind  partiality,  with  that  of  other  benevo- 
lent gentlemen  engaged  in  this  noble  charity,  has 
selected  me  as  an  advocate  of  the  orphan  and  the 
indigent.  Conscious  of  my  inability  to  do  justice  to 
the  subject,  I  respectfully  ask  this  audience  not  to 
allow  the  feebleness  of  my  advocacy  to  prejudice  my 
cause. 

On  the  16th  of  December,  1839,  a  number  of  gentle- 
men met,  and  appointed  a  Committee  to  report  on  this 
subject.  The  Committee  reported  to  a  public  meeting 
on  the  17th  of  March,  1840,  "That  it  is  expedient  to 
establish,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Baltimore,  a  Manual 
Labour  School  for  Indigent  Boys."  Since  then,  the 
public  mind  has  been  intensely  excited  by  the  political 
questions  which  have  agitated  this  country  from  the 
St.   John   to  the   Sabine;   and,  it  was  not   deemed 

*This  Speech  was  delivered,  by  request  of  the  Board  of  Directors, 
in  the  Sharp  street  Baptist  Church,  Baltimore.  It  was  preceded  by 
the  following  Resolution: 

kesolved,  That  the  effort,  now  being  made,  to  establish,  in  the 
vicinity  of  Baltimore,  a  Manual  Labour  School  for  Indigent  Boys, 
has,  in  an  eminent  degree,  claims  on  the  consideration  and  co-opera- 
tion of  the  Christian,  the  philanthropist,  and  the  patriot. 


276  SPEECH. 

expendient  to  hazard  the  success  of  the  plan,  by- 
calling  for  public  aid  during  the  existence  of  those  all- 
absorbing  political  discussions.  But  now,  Sir,  the 
storm  has  ceased  to  agitate  the  bosom  of  the  political 
and  social  ocean,  which  has  subsided  into  its  wonted 
repose;  and  this  highly  respectable  assemblage  of 
citizens  of  Baltimore  has  convened,  this  evening,  for 
the  purpose  of  hearing  the  claims  of  this  Institution 
enforced;  and  then,  if  it  receive  their  approbation,  to 
contribute  for  its  establishment. 

The  design  of  the  Board  of  Directors  is,  to  purchase 
a  farm  in  the  vicinity  of  the  city,  where  they  will  be 
able  to  accommodate  indigent  boys,  who  are  exposed  to 
all  the  evils  arising  from  want  of  culture,  and  from 
vicious  associations;  and,  by  combining  mental  culti- 
vation with  manual  labour,  cause  them  to  contribute  to 
their  own  support;  while,  at  the  same  time,  they  will 
become  qualified  to  obtain  future  subsistence.  The 
charities  of  the  Institution  will  first  be  extended  to  indi- 
gent orphans;  and  then,  as  far  as  its  means  will  enable  it, 
to  other  destitute  boys,  whose  parents  cannot,  or  will 
not,  extend  to  them  the  protection  and  care  which 
belong  to  the  relation.  The  principal  expense  to  the 
community  will  exist  in  the  organization  of  the  Insti- 
tution, and  during  the  first  year.  After  that  period,  the 
proceeds  of  the  labour  of  the  beneficiaries  will  nearly, 
if  not  altogether,  support  the  establishment. 

This  charity,  in  behalf  of  which  an  appeal  is  now 
made  to  this  audience,  is  not  an  experiment,  the  suc- 
cess of  which  is  to  be  determined  by  results.  The 
experiment  has  already  been  made  with  distinguished 


SPEECH.  277 

success.  In  1835,  a  school  was  opened  near  Boston, 
on  a  farm  of  one  hundred  and  twenty  acres.  In  1838, 
there  were  one  hundred  and  five  pupils  in  the  esta- 
blishment, between  the  ages  of  eight  and  eighteen:  a 
number  of  whom,  at  proper  ages,  were  bound  out  to 
farmers  and  mechanics,  with  highly  satisfactoiy  results. 
The  labour  necessary  for  the  Institution  was  performed 
by  the  scholars,  with  the  assistance  of  master- workmen. 
In  one  year,  the  produce  of  the  farm  amounted  to  four 
thousand  and  five  hundred  dollars;  fifteen  hundred  of 
which  were  the  product  of  sales;  leaving  three  thou- 
sand to  be  consumed  by  the  Institution.  Thus,  Mr. 
President,  it  will  be  perceived  that  the  question  pre- 
sented to  this  community  is,  Shall  indigent  boys  be 
allowed  to  acquire  habits  of  vice,  and  become  inmates 
of  houses  for  juvenile  delinquents,  of  jails,  and  of 
penitentiaries — ruined  in  morals,  and  lost  to  society:  or, 
shall  the  means  be  afforded  to  train  them  up  in  habits 
of  industry  and  virtue,  and,  thus,  make  them  useful  and 
honourable  members  of  the  great  human  family?  Sir, 
the  amount  of  money  requisite  to  secure  these  blessings, 
when  compared  with  the  results,  is  not  to  be  estimated 
as  the  small  dust  in  the  balance. 

Mr.  President,  this  Institution  is  designed  for  preven- 
tion— not  for  punishment.  And  I  ask  the  attention  of 
the  audience  to  this  view  of  the  subject.  Sir,  we  all 
know  the  power  of  temptation,  even  with  those  of 
mature  years:  that  it  often  requires  all  the  strength 
derived  from  the  associations  of  early  education  and 
subsequent  reflection,  to  enable  us  to  resist  the  head- 
long torrent  of  impetuous  passion.  Who  has  not  had 
24* 


278  SPEECH. 

occasion  to  use  that  petition  indited  by  the  GreaH 
Saviour  of  men,  "Lead  us  not  into  temptation"? 
What,  then,  are  we  to  expect  will  be  the  fate  of  the 
poor  boy,  cut  off  from  the  humanizing1  influence  of 
all  the  social  relations  of  life,  and  left  to  the  action  of 
evil  associations  on  the  unbridled  promptings  of  his 
corrupt  nature?  He  is  thus  prematurely  taught  to  be 
a  violator  of  the  law.  We  all  know  the  effects  of 
habit;  and  admit  the  truth  of  the  saying  of  the  philoso- 
pher, No  one  ever  became  most  base  in  an  hour. 
Small  offences  blunt  the  sensibilities,  and  lead  to  gross 
acts;  and  the  experience  of  the  world  has  confirmed 
the  remark,  that  the  head  of  an  idle  boy  is  the  prolific 
shop  of  unnumbered  evils.  Is  not  society  under  obli- 
gations to  assume  the  relation  of  parent  to  the  helpless 
orphan?  If  the  poor  orphan  boy  stood  before  you  to- 
night, he  might  addrefts  you  in  the  beautiful  and 
pathetic  lamentation  of  Job,  Have  pity  upon  me; 
have  pity  upon  me,  O  ye  my  friends;  for  the  hand  of 
the  Lord  hath  touched  me. 

When  man  is  without  moral  and  intellectual  culture, 
the  wild  passions  of  his  nature  are  left  to  their  unre- 
strained influence  on  his  character.  In  what  respect  is 
he  then  superior  to  the  savage  animals  that  roam  the 
forest  in  quest  of  prey?  Guided  by  impulse  and  not 
by  reason,  the  law  of  self-preservation  is  the  only  law 
to  whose  influence  he  bows;  and,  were  it  not  for  the 
superior  civilization  by  which  he  is  surrounded  and 
restrained  he  would  be  as  incontrollable  as  the  untamed 
wanderer  of  the  woods,  who  has  no  knowledge  of  Deity 
except  that  he, 

"Sees  God  in  clouds,  or  hears  him  in  the  wind." 


SPEECH.  279 

Intellect  and  morals  would  be  sunk  in  sense;  and  the 
miserable  outcast  would  soon  become  a  victim  to  the 
laws  he  had  outraged,  but  of  the  existence  of  which 
he  was  not  informed.  Is  that  benevolence?  Is  that 
justice?  The  welfare  of  society  may  require  the  sacri- 
fice to  the  sternness  of  her  statutes;  but,  true  benevo- 
lence will  endeavour  to  save  the  wretch  from  the  com- 
mission of  the  crime. 

An  immortal  poet,  in  the  most  finished  and  admired 
composition  in  the  English  language,  indulges  in  reflec- 
tions on  the  humble  occupants  of  the  receptacles 
of  the  dead;  and  supposes  that  village  Hampdens, 
mute  inglorious  Miltons,  and  guiltless  Cromwells,  may 
repose  there  in  the  last,  long  sleep;  but  adds  that  "chill 
penury"  caused  them  to  die,  unhonoured  and  unknown. 
Sir,  we  may  apply  the  same  reflections  to  poor  youth 
wandering  in  our  streets.  With  proper  cultivation, 
they  might  illustrate  our  country  by  attainments  in 
Science  and  the  Arts,  command  the  admiration  of 
senates  by  their  eloquence,  and  lead  our  annies  to 
victory  in  defence  of  our  liberties.  But,  instead  of 
affording  them  the  opportunity  to  become  thus  honour- 
able and  useful,  you,  by  neglect,  allow  them  to  occupy 
a  prominent  place  in  the  proceedings  of  your  Criminal 
Courts,  and  to  fill  the  records  with  the  details  of  their 
crimes.  And  what,  Mr.  President,  is  the  effect  pro- 
duced on  the  poor  boy  who  is  confined  in  our  jail  or 
penitentiary,  as  a  punishment  for  violations  of  law? 
Without  any  to  take  care  of  him  but  that  God  who 
"tempers  the  wind  to  the  shorn  lamb,"  he  may  have 
committed  an  offence  against  a  law,  of  whose  penalty 


280  SPEECH. 

or  existence  he  was  uninformed;  and,  he  is  confined  in 
the  abode  of  those  who  have  grown  grey  in  crime — 
contact  with  whom  is  leprosy  to  his  soul.  Better,  Sir, 
let  him  lie  down  in  the  grave  by  the  side  of  his  dead 
father  and  mother,  than  place  him  amidst  associations 
such  as  these.  Can  he  escape  from  that  prison-house 
without  defilement,  deep  and  damning?  And  even  if 
he  should,  where  can  he  go  when  the  chains  of  his 
captivity  are  sundered?  Will  the  virtuous  receive  him 
to  their  bosoms  and  their  homes?  Let  him  go  where 
he  will,  a  mark,  as  indelible  as  that  of  Cain,  is  upon  his 
person;  and  he  must  die  with  a  broken  heart,  or  plunge 
into  deeper  crime.  The  tree  that  has  been  scathed  by 
the  lightning  of  heaven,  is  not  a  more  conspicuous 
object  for  the  gaze  of  man.  It  would  be  almost  a 
blessing  if  the  old  fable  were  true,  and  that,  in  this  case, 
all  the  footsteps  pointed  to  the  cave,  but  none  indicated 
a  return.  Sir,  is  it  not  charity  to  endeavour  to  rescue 
the  destitute  orphan  from  misery  such  as  this? 

Mr.  President,  moral  education,  to  be  effective,  must 
be  continuous:  not  confined  to  a  day  in  a  week,  but 
must  extend  through  months  and  years.  This  is  a 
great  recommendation  to  the  Manual  Labour  School 
system.  I  have  not  time,  Sir,  to  develope  this  subject; 
but,  if  you  will  contrast  the  Sabbath  in  such  a  school, 
with  the  Sabbath  of  the  indigent  boy  in  your  streets, 
you  will  readily  appreciate  the  full  force  of  the  argu- 
ment. Sir,  the  man  who  fails  to  reform  others,  or  to 
prevent  the  -commission  of  crime,  when  reform  or  pre- 
vention are  in  his  power,  is  responsible  for  the  future 
acts.     If  I  see  a  man  about  to  throw  himself  from  a 


SPEECH.  281 

precipice,  when  consequent  destruction  would  be  ine- 
vitable, and  possess,  without  exercising,  the  power  of 
prevention,  am  I  not  a  murderer?  If  such  conduct 
towards  my  fellow-being  be  crime,  when  its  effects  are 
confined  to  the  welfare  of  his  person,  by  what  name 
should  it  be  called  when  it  extends  to  the  destiny  of 
his  spirit?  Society  is  a  system  of  mutual  obligations — 
mutual  dependencies.  Whether  you  strike  the  tenth  or 
the  ten-thousandth  link  of  this  great  chain,  its  integrity 
is  alike  severed.  Man  has  no  right  to  confine  himself, 
like  a  shell-fish,  within  the  limits  of  his  own  interests. 
Wherever  you  find  a  destitute  fellow- being  in  need  of 
your  charities,  and  you  are  able  to  relieve  him,  Sir,  he 
is  your  brother.  That  divine  system  which  the  Great 
Friend  of  man  brought  down  from  heaven,  makes 
good  Samaritans  of  all  who  feel  its  saving  power. 

Mr.  President,  the  State  has  many  benevolent  institu- 
tions which  she  sustains:  but,  sometimes,  charitable 
enterprise,  single  or  associated,  can  effect  more  in  the 
cause  of  beneficence,  than  State  supervision.  Such 
I  conceive  to  be  pre-eminently  the  case  with  the 
Manual  Labour  School  system.  Baltimore  is  rather 
behind  other  large  cities,  in  her  charitable  institutions; 
and,  Sir,  they  are  the  noblest  monuments  they  could 
erect  for  the  perpetuation  of  their  fame.  Let  us,  then, 
add  to  our  noble  monuments — erected  to  individual 
glory — the  far  nobler  monuments  for  the  melioration  of 
the  condition  of  man.  The  morbid  appetite  for  ruth- 
less war  has  been  succeeded  by  the  peaceful  pursuits  of 
enterprise  and  beneficence.  Far  better,  Sir,  to  be  the 
followers  of  Him  who  went  about  doing  good,  than  of 


282  SPEECH. 

that  bloody  spirit  of  darker  days  which  seeks  whom  it 
may  devour. 

The  limits  assigned  to  me  this  evening,  Mr.  Presi- 
dent, do  not  allow  a  further  expansion  of  this  interest- 
ing subject.  But,  I  cannot  refrain  from  asking  those 
who  occupy  the  seats  before  me,  What  made  you  to 
differ  from  those  unfortunates,  whose  claims  I  this 
evening  advocate?  Perhaps  your  mothers  were  spared 
to  your  early  infancy,  and  your  fathers  to  your  maturer 
days.  Lessons  of  virtue  were  instilled  into  your  young 
minds  while  standing  by  your  mother's  knee;  and  early 
habits  of  industry  acquired  from  the  example  of  a 
father.  Shew,  then,  your  gratitude  for  such  inestima- 
ble blessings  by  making  provision  for  the  poor  orphan. 
Look  into  your  own  benevolent  hearts,  and  you  will 
there  find  arguments,  more  convincing  than  any  I  can 
offer,  in  behalf  of  those  whose  cause  I  advocate. 

The  Resolution  I  have  the  honour  to  submit  for 
your  adoption  declares,  that  the  Manual  Labour  School 
has  claims  on  the  Christian,  the  philanthropist,  and  the 
patriot.  I  will  not  invade  the  distinctive  duties  of  those 
who  minister  in  this  consecrated  temple,  by  dwelling 
on  the  relation  between  early  instruction  and  the  future 
condition  of  man.  The  philanthropist  may  not  be 
called  to  imitate  the  examples  of  Howard  and  Fry, 
and  explore  the  dark  depths  of  the  damp  dungeon  in 
order  to  meliorate  the  condition  of  the  captive;  but,  we 
fulfil  our  destiny  by  labouring,  in  our  sphere,  to  in- 
crease the  happiness  of  our  race.  The  patriot  who 
wishes  to  perpetuate  to  future  ages  our  example  of  a 
free  government,  and  this  asylum  for  the  oppressed  of 


SPEECH  283 

every  land,  will  endeavour  to  educate  the  poor* — a  class 
so  powerful  for  evil,  or  for  good.  The  intelligence  of 
the  early  settlers  on  our  shores  gave  impulse  to  the 
best  model  of  civil  government  the  world  ever  saw — 
a  model  which  the  ignorant  can  never  imitate,  while 
trodden  down  by  the  iron  foot  of  oppression.  But 
ignorance  leads  to  vice;  and  vice  will  place  her  shoul- 

*Fourteen  thousand  dollars  have  been  collected  for  this  Manual 
Labour  School;  nearly  one-half  of  which  was  subscribed  on  this 
occasion.  A  valuable  farm  of  one  hundred  and  forty  acres,  six  miles 
from  Baltimore,  has  been  purchased  and  improved,  and  suitable 
buildings  erected.  The  Institution  now  contains  forty  boys;  and  a 
hundred  pressing  applications,  beyond  its  ability  to  accommodate, 
have  been  received.  The  success  of  the  Institution  has  surpassed 
the  expectations  of  its  benevolent  projectors;  and  the  numerous 
applications  for  admission  which  their  restricted  means  compel  them 
reluctantly  to  reject,  give  to  it  claims  on  further  aid  from  a  charitable 
public. 

In  connexion  with  this  subject,  I  have  prepared — with  no  incon- 
siderable labour — the  following  Scale  or  Education  in  the 
United  States,  shewing  the  number  of  white  persons  over  twenty 
years  of  age,  in  each  State  and  Territory,  who  cannot  read  and  write. 
It  has  been  collected  from  the  volume  of  the  Sixth  Census — for 
1840 — recently  issued.  All  fractions  lower  than  one-fourth  are 
omitted.  In  preparing  this  Scale,  I  have  deducted  from  the  total 
population,  all  the  coloured  population,  whether  free  or  slave.  The 
Scales  of  this  kind  which  have  been  published  in  the  daily  papers, 
are  very  inaccurate.  For  example;  they  give  Vermont  the  propor- 
tion of  one  to  every  four  hundred  and  seventy-three:  South  Carolina 
one  to  every  seventeen:  Maine  one  to  every  one  hundred  and  eight: 
Delaware  one  to  every  eighteen:  Tennessee  one  to  every  eleven: 
N.  Hampshire  one  to  every  three  hundred  and  ten,  &c .  By  comparing 
these  statements  with  the  Scale  below,  the  importance  of  these  errors 
will  be  manifest.  It  is  obvious  that  these  published  Scales  were  calcu- 
lated on  the  same  principle  on  which  I  have  compiled  the  one  here 
inserted — the  exclusion  of  the  coloured  population — because  other 
States  (free  as  well  as  slave-holding;)  correspond  in  the  calculations. 


284 


SPEECH. 


ders  against  the  pillars  of  this  noble  temple  of  liberty; 
and,  then,  the  time-honoured  fabric,  built  by  the  toil  of 
patriots,  and  consecrated  by  the  blood  of  martyrs,  will 
crumble  in  ruin 

Any  other  mode  of  comparison  would  do  great  injustice  to  the  slave- 
holding  States. 

SCALE. 


Connecticut 

1  to 

every  574 

Mississippi 

I  to  every     21i 

N.  Hampshire 

1 

«       30H 

Florida 

L           «         211 

Maine 

1 

1851 

Indiana 

I          «         18 

Massachusetts 

1 

164 

Wiskonsin 

I           «          18 

Vermont 

1 

«       1281 

Illinois 

I           «          17 

Michigan 

1 

97 

Missouri           ] 

L           «         17 

Rhode  Island 

1 

65| 

Tennessee        : 

L           «          16 

New  Jersey 

1 

55 

Kentucky         ] 

L           "          14$ 

New  York 

1 

53i 

Alabama 

L           «          14$ 

Pennsylvania 

1 

50 

Virginia            '. 

L           «          12* 

Ohio 

1 

43 

S.  Carolina      ] 

-         12] 

Iowa 

1 

38i 

Delaware          ] 

L           "         12 

Louisiana 

1 

«          32f 

Georgia            ] 

L           "         12 

Dis.  Columbia 

1 

29 

Arkansas          ] 

ioi 

Maryland 

1 

27 

N.  Carolina     1 

8* 

SPEECH, 

Delivered,  by  request,  in  Baltimore,  September  21st,  1840, 
Fellow-Citizens: 

I  appear  before  you  this  evening,  in  compli- 
ance with  an  invitation  from  your  Committee.  In  the 
discussion  of  the  subject — the  wages  of  labour — which 
I  shall  present  to  you,  I  shall  not  enter  into  elaborate 
arguments,  nor  weary  you  by  tabular  statements. 
Such  a  mode  of  discussion  would  not  be  appropriate 
to  the  present  occasion.  I  shall  confine  myself  to  such 
statements  and  arguments  as  will  be  readily  appre- 
ciated by  every  one  present;  and  which  you  can  easily 
expand  when  sitting  around  your  own  fire-sides,  in  the 
bosom  of  your  own  families.  And,  as  the  subject  on 
which  I  design  to  address  you  has  a  most  important 
bearing  on  your  personal  and  domestic  happiness,  such 
will  be  the  most  appropriate  time  and  place  to  give  it 
your  most  serious  consideration. 

Labour  has  been  defined  to  be  the  creative  power 
of  man;  and,  there  are  few  subjects  that  more  vitally 
affect  the  interests  of  the  labouring  men  of  every  com- 
munity, than  the  price  they  receive  for  their  toil. 
Their  capital  consists  in  the  strength  of  their  sinewy 
arms;  and,  no  portion  of  the  population  of  a  country  is 
more  entitled  to  respect,  than  that  which  complies 
25 


286  SPEECH. 

with  the  primeval  command,  In  the  sweat  of  thy  face 
shalt  thou  eat  bread.  They  are  the  bone  and  sinew 
of  the  land:  what  Goldsmith  appropriately  calls,  "their 
country's  pride."  Such  men  constitute  eight- tenths  of 
the  voters  of  the  United  States,  and  have  an  indisputable 
claim  on  the  protection  and  fostering  care  of  the 
Government.  I  employ  the  strong  language  of  Mr. 
Webster  when  I  say,  The  labourer  of  the  United 
States,  is  the  United  States. 

The  Abbe  De  Lamennais  has  justly  remarked  that, 
"Labour  is  the  action  of  humanity  accomplishing  the 
work  which  the  Creator  has  given  it  in  charge."  It  is 
thus  that  man  fulfils  his  destiny.  And,  if  it  be  correct 
to  say, 

"Act  well  your  part;  there  all  the  honour  lies," 

the  man  who  labours,  day  after  day,  for  his  support, 
has  higher  claims  to  the  respect  of  the  community  than 
he  has,  who  lives  on  the  product  of  the  toil  of  his 
fathers;  without  occupation,  without  resource,  useless 
to  his  country,  and  a  burden  to  himself.  In  European 
countries,  the  ancient  forms  of  society  recognize  arti- 
ficial distinctions  among  men — distinctions  arising  from 
birth.  But,  in  our  Republican  country,  every  man  has 
the  privilege  of  being  the  architect  of  his  own  fortune 
and  position;  and,  any  condition  of  life  is  honourable 
which  enables  a  man  to  be  independent  by  the  exertion 
of  honest  efforts.  Whenever  a  foreign  foe  threatens  a 
descent  upon  our  soil,  the  labouring-man  shoulders  his 
musket  and  girds  on  his  sword;  and,  his  glittering 
bayonet  and  flashing  blade  are  interposed  between  the 


SPEECH.  287 

invader,  and  the  desecration  of  our  temples  and  our 
homes. 

The  doctrine  of  this  Administration  is,  that  the  Go- 
vernment has  nothing  to  do  with  providing  a  currency 
for  the  People.  It  is  justly  inferrible  from  this  that 
the  Administration  doctrine  is,  that  the  Government 
will  take  care  of  itself,  and  the  People  must  take  care 
of  themselves.  But,  I  will  not  believe  that  the  People 
will  ever  sanction  this  monstrous  doctrine.  What 
makes  the  Government?  The  People.  For  whose  in- 
terests was  it  established?  For  the  interests  of  the 
People  themselves.  In  comparison  with  these  in- 
terests, the  men  who  fill  the  high  places  of  honour  and 
profit  are  insignificant — the  small  dust  of  the  balance. 
And,  whenever  they  stand  in  the  way  of  public  pros- 
perity, they  deserve  to  be  crushed  by  the  wheels  of  a 
car,  more  ponderous  than  that  which  breaks  the  bones 
of  the  miserable  devotee  amidst  Asiatic  superstitions. 
The  Administration  may  be  regardless  of  the  wages 
the  poor  man  receives  for  his  labour — on  which  wages 
his  wife  and  children  depend  for  bread.  The  United 
States'  officers — from  the  President  downwards — re- 
ceive their  pay  in  hard  money;  on  which,  if  they 
choose,  they  can  obtain  a  premium,  and  then  buy  the 
produce  of  the  farmer,  and  the  labour  of  the  working- 
man,  at  reduced  prices,  and  with  depreciated  money. 
This  works  gain  to  the  office-holders,  and  loss  to  the 
People. 

The  French  Revolutionists  said  it  was  nothing  to 
sacrifice  a  million  of  lives  in  the  establishment  of  a 
principle.     So,  the  Administration  seems  to  think  it  no 


2SS  SPEECH. 

harm  to  sacrifice  the  prosperity  of  the  People  in  the 
trial  of  experiments.  The  dying  eagle  looks  with 
poignant  feelings  on  the  arrow  winged  with  his  own 
feathers,  which  has  pierced  his  body;  and,  such  must 
be  the  feelings  of  the  People  when  their  interests  are 
sacrificed  by  those  whom  they  have  placed  in  power. 
This  is  not  the  first  time  that  enormities  have  been  per- 
petrated in  the  sacred  name  of  Liberty.  As  an  answer 
to  the  appeal  which  has  been  made  to  the  gratitude  due 
from  the  People  to  this  Administration,  I  reply  in  the 
eloquent  language  of  Colonel  Barre,  when  he  answered 
Charles  Townshend,  who,  in  the  conclusion  of  a  speech 
delivered  in  the  British  Parliament,  said,  "And  now 
these  Americans — children  planted  by  our  care,  nou- 
rished by  our  indulgence,  protected  by  our  arms — will 
they  grudge  their  mite  to  relieve  us?"  To  this  Colonel 
Barre  replied,  "They  planted  by  your  care?  Your  op- 
pressions drove  them  to  America.  They  nourished  by 
your  indulgence?  They  grew  by  your  neglect  of  them. 
They  protected  by  your  arms?  They  have  nobly  taken 
up  arms  in  your  defence:  for  the  defence  of  a  country 
whose  frontier  was  drenched  in  blood,  while  its  interior 
yielded  all  its  little  savings  for  your  emolument." 

The  labourers  of  this  country — including,  in  that 
designation,  all  of  every  age  and  sex,  who,  in  some 
form,  belong  to  the  industrious  and  working  classes — 
amount  to  sixteen  millions  out  of  seventeen  millions 
of  population;  and,  hence,  it  has  been  said  that,  "The 
labourer  of  the  United  States  is  the  United  States." 
They  are  far  more  respectable  than  the  labourers  of 
Europe:  nine-tenths  of  whom  have  no  interest  in  the 


SPEECH.  289 

productions  of  their  own  toil;  can  never  elevate  them- 
selves, but  are  often  bought  and  sold  with  the  soil  they 
cultivate.  Our  labouring  men  take  an  active  part  in 
the  politics  of  the  country;  and,  when  they  possess 
ability  and  virtue,  the  highest  stations  may  become  ob- 
jects of  their  ambition.  No  man  in  public  life  more 
distinctly  represents  the  political  views  of  the  party 
now  in  power,  than  one  of  the  Senators  from  Ohio.  I 
will  now  quote  his  opinion  on  the  subject  of  the  price 
of  produce  and  labour.  It  deserves  the  consideration 
of  the  farmer,  the  labourer,  the  mechanic,  and  the 
manufacturer.  He  says,  "The  price  of  labour  is  en- 
tirely too  high.  The  labourer  in  this  country  can  af- 
ford to  work  for  eleven  pence  a  day;  and,  the  hard- 
money  system  will  bring  down  wages  to  that  sum. 
Wheat  will  also  come  down  to  sixteen  cents  a  bushel, 
and  every  thing  else  in  proportion.  This  is  the  best 
tariff  you  can  have;  and  the  only  one  that  can  enable 
our  manufacturers  to  compete  with  those  of  England. 
The  Sub-Treasury  will  effect  both  objects:  it  will  put 
down  the  banks,  and  bring  wages,  and  every  thing  else 
down."  Dean  Swift  was  a  better  political  economist 
than  the  Ohio  Senator.  He  says,  the  luxuries  and 
necessaries  of  life  were  cheaper  in  Ireland  than  in 
England;  and  adds,  that  this  is  always  the  case  in  the 
poorest  countries,  because  there  is  no  money  to  pay  for 
them.  It  was  inadvertently  stated,  by  the  opposition 
papers,  that  this  Senator  had  given  utterance  to  these 
sentiments  during  the  delivery  of  a  speech  in  the 
Senate  of  the  United  States:  which  statement  he  pro- 
nounced to  be  "false  and  a  base  forgery;"  and  offered 
25* 


290  SPEECH. 

a  reward  of  one  thousand  dollars  to  any  one  who 
would  produce  an  authenticated  copy  of  the  speech. 
The  opinions  were  expressed  in  conversation,  at  Steu- 
benville,  Ohio — as  has  been  incontrovertably  proved — 
and  not  on  the  floor  of  the  Senate. 

A  member  of  the  Administration  party  is  reported 
to  have  used  the  following  language:  "It  is  true,  Sir, 
that  a  greater  portion  of  the  population  of  France  are 
deprived  of  the  use  of  animal  food:  but,  does  it  fol- 
low that,  as  a  whole,  they  are  the  worse  off?  No  Sir; 
so  far  from  it,  I  have  the  authority  of  an  English  states- 
man, who  speaks  from  observation  and  a  critical  ex- 
amination of  the  subject,  for  saying,  that  the  reverse  is 
the  case."  The  member  who  expressed  such  opinions 
— supported  by  the  authority  of  an  English  statesman — 
as  to  what  was  requisite  for  the  necessities  and  comforts 
of  the  labouring-man,  was  enabled,  by  his  per  diem, 
to  fare  sumptuously  every  day.  We  will  attach  due 
consideration  to  such  opinions,  when  advanced  by  him- 
self and  his  political  associates,  after  they  shall  have  tried 
the  experiment  of  living  without  meat,  and  shall  have 
consented  to  reduce  their  pay  to  the  specie  standard. 
Would  it  be  unjust  to  infer,  that  they  had  learned 
their  philosophy  from  the  history  of  "The  Parish 
Boy's  Progress;"  and  that  they  agree,  with  the  parish 
beadle,  in  considering  "meat"  as  the  cause  of  all  com- 
plaints and  insubordination? 

It  would  appear,  from  the  expression  of  such  opinions 
by  prominent  men  of  the  party,  that  the  object  of  this 
Administration  is  to  reduce  the  currency,  prices,  and 
wages  of  this  country,  to  European  standards.     Let  us 


SPEECH.  291 

examine,  for  a  moment,  into  the  prices  of  labour  in  a 
few  European  countries.  In  England,  the  poor  la- 
bourer receives  from  two  dollars  and  a  half  to  four  dol- 
lars a  week.  In  times  of  distress  he  receives  but 
two  dollars.  In  both  cases,  he  supplies  his  own  board 
and  lodging.  In  France,  the  price  of  labour  averages 
sixteen  cents  a  day.  In  Corsica,  the  male  labourer 
gets  twenty-four  cents  a  day,  and  the  female  eleven 
cents.  In  Prussia,  the  male  working-man  gets  from 
eight  to  thirteen  cents  a  day:  the  female  about  half. 
In  Holland  and  Belgium,  the  farm-labourer  receives 
from  twenty-two  to  twenty-eight  dollars  per  annum: 
the  female  half.  In  Austria,  the  field-labourer  is  paid 
twenty- two  cents  a  day,  deducting  one-half  for  board 
and  lodging.  In  Russia,  no  wages  are  paid  to  la- 
bourers; and  the  serf  is  bought  and  sold  with  the  soil. 
In  India,  the  people  conform  to  the  no-meat  theory, 
and  live  on  rice.  Such  are  the  standards  to  which  the 
Administration  wishes  to  reduce  the  wages  of  working- 
men  in  this  country.  Are  they  prepared  for  such  re- 
sults? 

A  Senator  of  the  United  States  remarked,  a  few 
months  since,  as  follows:  "If  a  labourer  receive  one 
dollar  as  his  day's  wages,  and  has,  at  the  same  time,  to 
pay  one  dollar  for  a  bushel  of  grain,  and  for  other 
necessaries  in  proportion,  he  will  then  have  no  higher 
wages  than  when  he  receives  but  fifty  cents  a  day, 
and,  at  the  same  time,  pays  but  fifty  cents  for  grain; 
and  for  other  necessaries  in  proportion,"  At  the  first 
view,  there  appears  to  be  nothing  objectionable  in  this 
position.     But  let  us  examine  its  bearing  <sn  the  corn- 


292  SPEECH. 

forts  and  interests  of  the  labouring-man.  The  position 
is  maintainable,  in  a  restricted  sense,  in  its  application 
to  home  products;  but  does  not  apply  to  the  articles  of 
importation.  Moreover,  it  does  not  even  apply,  in 
every  view,  to  home  productions;  because,  while  agri- 
cultural products  are  low  in  masses,  the  markets  which 
furnish,  in  small  quantities,  the  daily  supply  for  our 
families,  are  high.  Our  importations  considerably  ex- 
ceed one  hundred  millions  annually:  and,  as  regards 
all  such  articles,  low  wages  affect  the  comforts  of  the 
labouring-man;  because,  the  price  of  these  articles  re- 
mains unchanged,  while  his  wages  are  to  be  reduced 
one-half.  Is  it  not  desirable  that  the  working-man 
shall  be  able  to  purchase  tea,  coffee,  and  other  luxu- 
ries, for  his  family?  But,  let  us  look  at  the  bearing  of 
such  doctrines  on  the  army  of  office-holders.  "While 
the  wages  of  the  labouring-man  are  reduced  one-half, 
the  salaries  of  the  public  officers  are  fixed;  and  they 
receive  full  pay  in  sound  currency,  on  which  they  can 
obtain  a  premium,  while  those  who  pay  their  salaries 
suffer  all  the  inconvenience.  Is  that  a  Democratic 
doctrine? 

That  country  is  most  prosperous  where  wages  are 
highest.  No  other  proof  of  this  position  is  necessary, 
than  to  compare  the  condition  of  the  labouring  men  of 
our  country,  a  few  years  since,  with  the  peasantry  of 
France,  who  wear  wooden  shoes,  dress  in  plain  cot- 
tons, and  only  occasionally  have  meat.  There  is  no 
country  upon  earth  where  the  working-man  is  as  com- 
fortable as  he  was  in  the  United  States,  before  the  ex- 
periments of  the  present  Administration.     England 


SPEECH.  293 

gives  higher  wages  than  other  countries  in  Europe;  and, 
the  condition  of  the  labouring-man  there,  approaches 
nearest  to  his  condition  with  us.  In  China,  and  other 
portions  of  Asia,  wages  are  very  low,  and  the  working 
population  live  on  rice. 

Low  wages  present  an  insurmountable  barrier  to  the 
accumulation  of  property  by  working  men.  Under 
such  circumstances  they  cannot  do  more  than  provide 
daily  support  for  themselves  and  families.  What  is 
to  become  of  them  when  all  the  decrepitudes  of  ad- 
vancing life  disqualify  them  for  their  former  vigorous 
efforts?  Every  man  wishes  to  provide  a  home,  where 
his  wife,  and  children,  and  friends,  may  assemble 
around  his  own  fire-side.  Society  does  not  present  a 
picture  more  beautiful  than  that  in  which  the  neat  and 
industrious  inmates  are  thus  assembled;  and,  generally, 
more  happiness  is  found  there  than  in  splendid  man- 
sions. Our  country  could  furnish  many  such  scenes 
as  are  presented  in  the  "Cotter's  Saturday  Night." 
We  want  an  equal  bard  to  confer  on  them  a  like  im- 
mortality. Have  such  citizens  no  claim  on  the  pro- 
tection of  the  Government?  The  labouring-man  who 
is  in  debt,  will  suffer  from  the  continuance  of  affairs  in 
their  present  tendencies.  In  consequence  of  the  ex- 
pectation of  better  days,  indulgence  is  extended  from 
the  creditor  to  the  debtor.  When  that  expectation  no 
longer  exists,  collections  of  dues  will  be  made  in  con- 
formity with  legal  provisions.  We  will  suppose  the 
labouring-man  to  have  leased  ground,  and  built  a  house, 
when  wages  were  high.  With  the  continuance  of 
health,  in  such  times,  he  could  easily  have  made  the 


294  SPEECH. 

property  his  own,  in  fee  simple.  But  reduce  wages 
one-half,  and  he  has,  essentially,  to  pay  twice  the 
amount  of  rent,  and  the  value  of  the  property  is 
doubled  to  the  owner.  Is  this  the  policy  of  a  truly 
Democratic  Administration?  Its  effect  is  to  make  the 
rich,  richer;  and  the  poor,  poorer.  The  results  I  have 
depicted  have,  as  yet,  been  only  partially  felt.  But 
they  are  in  progress;  and,  with  the  continuance  of  pre- 
sent measures,  cannot  be  averted.  Let  the  People, 
before  it  is  too  late,  take  charge  of  their  own  interests, 
and  apply  the  proper  correctives. 

If  the  People  be  not  true  to  themselves,  to  whom 
can  they  look  for  relief?  When  the  oppressed  children 
of  Israel  cried  to  Pharoah  on  account  of  their  burdens, 
he  taunted  them,  and  refused  their  petition.  They 
appealed  to  another  tribunal,  and  the  oppressor  was 
overthrown.  This  Administration  repels  the  com- 
plaints of  the  People,  by  telling  them  they  are  not  to 
expect  relief  from  those  they  have  placed  in  power. 
If  the  heavens  become  brass  above  our  heads,  and  the 
earth  iron  under  our  feet:  if  the  ground  refuse  to 
reward  the  labour  of  the  husbandman,  and  our  cattle 
die  on  a  thousand  hills,  we  submit,  without  a  murmur,  to 
the  will  of  Him  whose  right  it  is  to  reign.  But,  we  deny 
that  the  People  have  no  claim  on  civil  Governments. 
Why  did  our  forefathers  separate  from  England? 
Because,  when  they  were  suffering  under  oppression, 
England  refused  to  listen,  or  to  relieve.  She  taxed 
her  subjects,  at  the  same  time  denying  them  the  right 
of  representation;  and  quartered  her  soldiers  upon 
them,  in  order  to  compel  submission  to  her  oppressive 


SPEECH.  295 

laws.  And  are  we  to  submit  to  oppression,  after  having 
tasted  the  blessings  of  liberty?  The  proper  corrective 
is  in  the  peaceful  remedy  supplied  by  the  bal Jot-box, 
not  in  the  sword. 

Why  should  our  adopted  citizens  support  this  Ad- 
ministration? Why  did  you  leave  the  home  of  your 
fathers,  to  seek  a  dwelling-place  in  a  New  World? 
Because  you  were  trampled  in  the  dust  by  despotism. 
And  you  came  to  these  shores  that  you  might  enjoy 
the  blessings  of  plenty  and  of  liberty;  and  that,  as  the 
generous  reward  of  labour,  you  might  become  owners 
in  the  soil  What  will  you  have  gained  by  having 
fled  from  one  despotism,  to  be  oppressed  by  another?  It 
is  your  interest  to  aid  in  preserving  the  purity  of  our 
institutions,  not  only  on  account  of  yourselves  and 
your  children;  but,  also  in  behalf  of  your  countrymen, 
who,  in  future  clays,  may  wish  to  find  a  refuge  from 
the  iron  bondage  of  the  Old  World.  Two  hundred 
years  ago,  the  Genius  of  Liberty  rested  on  the  rock  of 
Plymouth — a  second  Ararat  amidst  the  universal  deluge 
of  despotism.  She  has  hovered  over  our  soil,  and 
extended  her  benefactions  like  the  dews  of  heaven. 
A  rich  harvest  of  blessings  has  followed;  and  here  man 
appreciates  the  dignity  of  his  nature.  He  walks 
abroad  in  his  own  majesty;  and,  not  fearing  the  frown 
of  any  tyrant,  he  bows  down  in  humble  adoration,  and 
worships  the  God  of  Nations.  Where  else  can  liberty 
find  a  resting-place?  Africa  has  been  covered  with 
thick  darkness  for  six  thousand  years;  and  never, 
except  for  a  period  on  her  Northern  shores,  has  civiliza- 
tion been  found  among  her  sable  children.     Ignorance 


296  SPEECH. 

and  superstition  destroy  the  energies  of  man  on  the 
plains  of  Asia.  Europe  has  been  denied  with  the  blood 
of  Poland;  and  the  spirit  of  Kosciusko  demands  re- 
venge on  the  oppressors  of  the  free.  The  Isles  of  the 
Sea  have  not  received  the  light  of  civilization  and  of 
Christianity;  and,  where  that  light  does  not  shine,  liberty 
cannot  dwell.  Here,  then,  is  her  last  resting-place;  and 
the  oppressed  of  every  land,  whose  souls  pant  for  freedom, 
may  turn  their  longing  eyes  to  our  shores,  and  exclaim, 
"Wherever  liberty  dwells,  there  is  my  country."  If 
she  be  exiled  from  our  land,  she  must  return  to  that 
world  from  which  she  came. 


JOHN  WILKES.* 

The  contest  between  Mr.  Wilkes  and  the  English 
Government,  is  one  of  the  most  remarkable  cases  in 
the  political  and  judicial  histoiy  of  England.  Not- 
withstanding the  striking  analogy  between  that  case, 
and  a  recent  occurrence  in  this  country,  I  have  no 
knowledge  that  it  has,  during  the  late  political  contest, 
been  made  the  subject  of  comment,  or  allusion  by 
public  speakers,  or  political  writers. 

In  1762,  a  weekly  political  paper,  called  the  Briton, 
was  established  for  the  defence  of  the  measures  of 
Lord  Bute,  and  was  conducted  by  Dr.  Smollett.  Mr. 
Wilkes,  highly  incensed  at  the  abuse  so  bitterly  lavished 
by  this  paper  on  his  political  friends,  established  another 
weekly  paper  for  their  defence,  and  styled  it  the  North 
Briton.  The  forty-fifth  number  of  this  paper,  con- 
taining remarks  on  a  speech  of  the  King  in  relation  to 
the  foreign  policy  of  the  Government,  came  under  the 
notice  of  the  law-officers  of  the  Crown;  and  was  pro- 
nounced by  them  to  be  an  infamous  and  seditious 
libel,  having  a  tendency  to  alienate  the  affections  of 
the  people  from  the  King,  and  to  excite  insurrection. 
A  general  warrant — that  vile  instrument  of  oppres- 

*This  article  was  written  during  the  Autumn  of  1840. 

26 


298  JOHN  WILKES. 

sion,  and  so  destructive  of  the  liberty  of  the  people — 
was  issued,  and  returns  made  on  it;  and,  notwith- 
standing each  return  made  it  functum  officio,  it  was 
issued  four  times.  This  general  warrant  was  served 
on  Mr.  Wilkes  on  the  street;  but,  not  finding  his  name 
in  the  instrument,  he  told  the  officer  if  he  used  vio- 
lence to  him  there,  he  would  kill  him  on  the  spot,  as 
the  warrant  was  illegal,  and  a  violation  of  the  rights  of 
an  Englishman.  The  officer  agreed  to  go  to  the  house 
of  Mr.  Wilkes,  who,  constrained  by  force,  was  taken 
thence  to  the  office  of  the  Secretary  of  State.  In 
order  to  evade  the  writ  of  habeas  corpus  which  had 
been  issued,  his  custody  was  changed  four  times  in 
twelve  hours;  and  he  was  finally  committed  to  the 
Tower.  His  house  was  then  searched  by  the  officers: 
closets,  bureaus,  and  drawers  were  broken  open:  all 
his  papers — his  will  and  private  pocket-book  among 
them — were  collected,  and  taken  to  the  office  of  the 
Secretary.  Two  noblemen  offered  to  become  his  bail 
in  one  hundred  thousand  pounds  each;  but,  their  pro- 
posal was  not  noticed.  Mr.  Wilkes  refused  his  consent 
to  the  offer  to  give  bail,  unless  his  health  failed;  as  he 
was  determined  to  test  what  protection  British  law 
would  afford  to  a  freeman. 

He  was  brought,  by  a  writ  of  habeas  corpus,  before 
the  Court  of  Common  Pleas — Lord  Chief- Justice 
Pratt  presiding  at  this  remarkable  trial,  which  was  to 
decide  whether  English  liberty  was  a  reality,  or  a 
shadow.  He  was  discharged  by  the  unanimous  deci- 
sion of  the  Court.  Regarded  by  the  people  as  the 
champion  of  English  liberty,  he  was  carried  in  triumph 


JOHN  WILKES.  299 

and  with  acclamation  by  a  vast  multitude,  and  his 
liberation  was  celebrated  by  bonfires  and  illuminations. 

Actions  at  law  were  commenced  against  the  officers 
who  had  been  instruments  in  the  proceeding,  and 
heavy  fines  were  imposed  by  the  juries.  Lord  North 
confessed,  during  a  debate  in  Parliament,  that  this  case 
cost  the  Government  more  than  one  hundred  thousand 
pounds.  Lord  Halifax,  the  Secretary  of  State,  evaded 
a  decision  on  his  case  until  Mr.  Wilkes  was  outlawed; 
and  then  advanced  the  plea,  that,  as  an  outlaw,  he 
could  not  hold  any  action.  After  the  outlawry  was 
reversed,  the  action  was  revived;  and  a  verdict  of  four 
thousand  pounds  damages  was  rendered  against  Lord 
Halifax. 

The  results  of  this  case,  by  the  decision  of  a  High 
Court  of  England,  were,  1st.  That  there  were  but 
three  cases  which  could  possibly  affect  the  privilege  of 
a  member  of  Parliament;  viz.  treason,  felony,  and  a 
breach  of  the  peace:  and  that,  although  a  libel,  in  the 
sense  of  the  law,  was  a  high  misdemeanour,  it  did  not 
come  within  any  one  of  these  three  cases.  2d.  That 
the  seizure  of  papers,  except  in  cases  of  high  treason, 
was  illegal.  3d.  That  the  warrant  was  illegal.  When 
it  is  considered  how  important  these  decisions  were  to 
the  private  relations,  and  personal  liberty  of  every  man 
in  the  kingdom,  it  is  not  strange  that  Mr.  WiJkes 
became  the  idol  of  the  people;  that  he  was  elected 
Sheriff  and  Lord  Mayor  of  London;  and  was  repeatedly 
returned  to  Parliament,  notwithstanding  his  expulsion 
from  that  body.  He  thus  speaks  of  himself:  "Whilst 
I  live,  I  shall  enjoy  the  satisfaction  of  thinking  that  I 


300  JOHN  WILKES. 

have  not  lived  in  vain:  that  my  name  will  pass  with 
honour  to  posterity  for  the  part  I  have  acted,  and  for 
my  unwearied  endeavours  to  protect  and  secure  the 
persons,  houses,  and  papers  of  my  fellow-subjects,  from 
arbitrary  visits  and  seizures."  When  the  results  of 
this  remarkable  case  are  considered,  the  propriety  of 
the  description  of  it  given  by  Mr.  Burke — as  a  tragi- 
comedy acted  by  the  officers  of  the  Crown,  at  the 
expense  of  the  Constitution — will  be  appreciated. 

These  reminiscences  of  the  political  and  judicial 
history  of  England  have  been  caused  by  a  recent  case 
of  the  seizure  of  private  papers.  Such  acts  were  not 
sanctioned  by  British  law,  eighty  years  ago,  in  the 
monarchical  government  of  England.  The  name  of 
Jeffries  remains  on  the  page  of  British  history  as  a 
reproach  to  human  nature,  because  he  defiled  the  pure 
ermine  of  justice,  that  he  might  gratify  the  desires  of 
a  tyrannical  master.  While  Justice  suspends  her 
scales  her  eyes  are  blinded,  that  she  may  be  able  to 
make  her  decisions  without  partiality.  What  says  the 
Bill  of  Rights  of  the  State  in  which  this  seizure  was 
made?  "The  right  of  the  People  to  be  secure  in  their 
persons,  houses,  papers,  and  effects  against  unreasonable 
searches  and  seizures,  ought  not  to  be  violated;  and  no 
warrant  can  issue  but  upon  probable  cause,  supported 
by  oath  or  affirmation,  and  particularly  describing  the 
place  to  be  searched,  and  the  persons  or  things  to  be 
seized." — I  Rev.  Stat.  93.  The  principles  upon  which 
this  article  of  the  Revised  Statutes  is  based,  have  long 
been  established  in  England;  and  are  recognised  by 
the    Constitutions   of   all   the   States   of  the   Union. 


JOHN  WILKES.  301 

What  right  had  the  heads  of  the  civil  and  municipal 
law  of  the  city  of  New  York  to  seize,  without  judicial 
process,  the  private  papers  of  a  citizen?  Is  not  a 
man's  house  his  castle?  Did  not  the  individual  to 
whose  keeping  the  papers  were  entrusted,  represent 
the  owner?  Were  not  these  officers  bound  by  the  Bill 
of  Rights?  Are  the  authorized  interpreters  of  the  law, 
above  all  law?  Justice  must  die,  if  her  own  dispen- 
sers be  permitted  to  give  her  the  fatal  stab.  Her  tem- 
ples must  perish,  if  her  robes  be  worn  by  those  whose 
putrescence  generates  the  flames  by  which  those  tem- 
ples will  be  consumed. 

The  time  has  arrived  for  a  dispassionate  examina- 
tion of  the  acts  of  the  twelve  past  years.  The  excite- 
ment of  party  strife  has  ceased:  the  voice  of  constitu- 
tional liberty  will  again  be  heard.  Now  is  the  time  to 
realize  the  beautiful  sentiment  of  Milton,  Peace  has 
her  victories,  no  less  renowned  than  War. 


26* 


WILLIAM  LENHART.* 

The  seed  which  produces  the  most  luxuriant  harvest 
requires  proper  cultivation  to  make  it  minister  to  the 
necessities  of  man.  The  marble  which  is  taken  from 
the  quarry  has  no  attraction  for  the  eye,  until  the  chisel 
of  the  sculptor  displays  its  tortuous  veins,  and  gives 
the  beauty  of  proportion.  So,  genius  of  the  highest 
order — without  the  fostering  care  of  patrons,  and  a  suit- 
able field  for  its  display — often  lies  buried  with  the 
unknown  possessor;  and  mankind  are  little  sensible 
that  a  brilliant  sun  has  gone  down  in  darkness,  which, 
under  more  favourable  circumstances,  would  have  fer- 
tilized and  adorned  society.  If  Lord  Clive  had  not 
been  employed  as  a  clerk  in  India,  he  would,  probably, 
never  have  displayed  that  brilliant  genius  which  gave 
him  rank  with  the  nobility  of  England,  and  astonished 
the  world. 

William  Lenhart  was  the  son  of  a  respectable  silver- 
smith of  York,  Pennsylvania,  where  he  was  bom  in 
January,  1787.  His  education  received  but  little 
attention  until,  when  he  was  about  fourteen  years  old, 
Dr.  Adrain — then  obscure,  but  since  extensively  known 
as  a  mathematician— opened  a   school  in  York,  and 

*I  am  indebted  to  the  Princeton  Review  for  the  facts  on  which 
this  article  is  based. 


304  WILLIAM  LENHART. 

young  Lenhart  became  one  of  his  pupils.  Adrain 
soon  discovered  the  great  mathematical  talents  of  his 
pupil;  and  assumed  towards  him  much  of  the  relation 
of  a  companion  in  study.  The  rock  was  smitten,  and 
the  waters  of  genius  commenced  to  flow  in  an  abun- 
dant stream.  Before  he  left  the  school  of  Dr.  Adrain 
he  became  a  contributor  to  the  "Mathematical  Corres- 
pondent"— a  periodical  published  in  New  York. 

When  he  was  about  seventeen,  he  entered  as  clerk 
a  store  in  Baltimore.  At  that  time  he  was  remarkable 
for  the  beauty  of  his  person,  and  the  agreeableness  of 
his  manners.  While  he  remained  in  Baltimore,  he 
occupied  his  leisure  hours  with  reading  and  mathema- 
tical studies;  and  he  made  contributions  to  the  "Mathe- 
matical Correspondent;"  and  also  to  the  "Analyst," 
published  by  Dr.  Adrain  in  Philadelphia.  At  the  age 
of  seventeen,  he  obtained  a  medal  for  the  solution 
of  a  mathematical  prize  question. 

After  remaining  in  Baltimore  about  four  years, 
Lenhart  undertook  the  care  of  the  books  in  a  commer- 
cial house  in  Philadelphia.  As  a  clerk  and  book- 
keeper he  was  unrivalled.  Such  was  the  estimation  in 
which  he  was  held  by  the  house,  that,  after  three  years, 
they  offered  him  a  partnership,  by  the  terms  of  which 
they  were  to  supply  the  capital — his  eminent  personal 
services  being  considered  by  them  as  an  equivalent. 
During  this  period  he  cultivated  mathematicial  science. 

Lenhart  was  now  about  twenty- four  years  old;  and, 
thus  far,  his  career — considering  the  difficulties  with 
which  he  had  to  contend — had  been  one  of  great  pros- 
perity and  promise.     As  to  the  remainder,  "shadows, 


WILLIAM  LENHART.  305 

clouds,  and  darkness  rest  upon  it."  When  the  pride  of 
the  forest  is  preyed  upon  by  the  worm,  we  are  not 
pained  by  its  gradual  decay.  The  rude  tempest  passes 
by,  and  it  falls  in  the  beauty  of  its  foliage.  The 
majestic  oak,  as  it  stands  upon  the  mountain-top,  may 
be  splintered  by  the  lightning;  but  our  feelings  of 
regret,  as  we  survey  the  prostrate  trunk,  are  absorbed 
by  the  contemplation  of  the  power  of  the  Almighty. 
We  have  different  emotions  when  it  has  been  scathed, 
and  withers,  and  every  wind  of  heaven  blows  through 
its  leafless  branches.  Deep  must  have  been  the 
anguish  of  Lenhart  as  he  contemplated  his  situation, 
and  felt  that  the  bright  prospects  of  his  life  were  over- 
cast, almost  as  soon  as  the  morning  sun  had  arisen. 
But,  he  calmly  bowed  his  head  to  the  stroke;  and  his 
noble  spirit  enabled  him  to  endure,  with  a  martyr's 
patience,  that  which,  in  the  amount  of  suffering,  sur- 
passed the  torture  and  the  flame. 

About  this  period  he  sustained  a  serious  injury  in 
consequence  of  being  thrown  from  a  carriage.  The 
result  was  paralysis  of  the  lower  extremities.  His  suf- 
ferings, during  the  subsequent  sixteen  years,  were  in- 
describable. The  intervals  of  pain  were  employed  with 
light  literature  and  music.  In  the  latter  art  he  made 
great  proficiency,  and  was  supposed  to  be  the  best 
chamber  flute-player  in  this  country.  He  composed 
variations  to  some  pieces  of  music,  expressive  of  the 
anguish  produced  by  the  disappointment  of  his  fondly 
cherished  hopes  of  domestic  happiness:  hopes  based 
on  a  matrimonial  engagement — the  result  of  a  mutual 
attachment  from  early  life.     These  variations  he  would 


306  WILLIAM  LENHART. 

perform  with  such  exquisite  feeling  as  deeply  to  affect 
all  who  heard  him.  In  1828,  having  so  far  recovered 
as  to  walk  with  difficulty,  he  again  fractured  his  leg  by 
a  fall.  His  sufferings,  at  this  time,  were  almost  too 
great  for  human  nature  to  endure.  The  progress  of 
his  disease  paralysed  his  lips,  and  he  could  no  longer 
amuse  himself  by  playing  on  the  flute:  and,  as  light 
literature  did  not  give  sufficient  employment  to  his 
active  mind,  he  relieved  the  weariness  of  his  confine- 
ment by  the  pursuit  of  mathematical  science.  It  was 
under  such  unfavourable  circumstances  that  he  made 
those  advances  in  abstruse  science  which  have  conferred 
distinction  on  his  name.  A  y ear  before  his  death,  he 
wrote  to  a  friend  the  following  sentence,  which  will  be 
duly  appreciated  by  the  mathematical  reader:  "My  af- 
flictions appear  to  me  to  be  not  unlike  an  infinite 
series,  composed  of  complicated  terms,  gradually  and 
regularly  increasing — in  sadness  and  suffering — and 
becoming  more  and  more  involved;  and,  hence,  the 
abstruseness  of  its  summation;  but,  when  it  shall  be 
summed  in  the  end,  by  the  Great  Arbiter  and  Master 
of  all,  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  the  formula  resulting,  will 
be  found  to  be  not  only  entirely  free  from  surds,  but 
perfectly  pure  and  rational,  even  unto  an  integer." 

Until  1828,  Mr.  Lenhart  wTas  oppressed  to  such  a 
degree  by  complicated  afflictions,  that  he  did  not  de- 
vote his  attention  to  mathematical  science.  After  this 
period  he  resumed  these  studies  for  the  purpose  of 
mental  employment;  and  contributed  various  articles 
to  mathematical  journals.  In  1836,  the  publication  of 
the  Mathematical  Miscellany  was  commenced  in  New 


WILLIAM  LENHART.  307 

York;  and  his  fame  was  established  by  his  contribu- 
tions to  that  journal.  I  do  not  design  to  enter  on  a 
detail  of  his  profound  researches.  He  attained  an 
eminence  in  science  of  which  the  noblest  intellects 
might  well  be  proud;  and  that  too  as  an  amusement, 
when  suffering  from  afflictions  which,  we  might  sup- 
pose, would  have  disqualified  him  for  intellectual  la- 
bour. It  will  be  sufficient  to  remark  that  he  has  left 
behind  him  a  reputation — in  the  estimation  of  those 
who  knew  him — as  the  most  eminent  Diophantine 
Algebraist  that  has  ever  lived.  The  eminence  of  this 
reputation  will  be  duly  estimated  when  it  is  recollected 
that  illustrious  men — such  as  Euler,  Lagrange,  and 
Gauss — are  his  competitors  for  fame  in  the  cultivation 
of  the  Diophantine  Analysis.  Well  might  he  say, 
that  he  felt  as  if  he  had  been  admitted  into  the  sanc- 
tum sanctorum  of  the  great  temple  of  Numbers,  and 
permitted  to  revel  amongst  its  curiosities. 

Notwithstanding  his  great  mathematical  genius,  Mr. 
Lenhart  did  not  extend  his  investigations  into  the 
modern  analysis,  and  the  differential  calculus,  as  far  as 
he  did  into  the  Diophantine  Analysis.  He  thus  ac- 
counts for  it:  "My  taste  lies  in  the  old  fashioned,  pure 
Geometry,  and  the  Diophantine  Analysis,  in  which 
every  result  is  perfect;  and,  beyond  the  exercise  of 
these  two  beautiful  branches  of  the  mathematics,  at 
my  time  of  life,  and  under  present  circumstances,  I 
feel  no  inclination  to  go." 

During  the  autumn  of  1839,  intense  suffering  and 
great  emaciation  indicated  that  his  days  were  almost 
numbered.     His  intellectual  powers  did  not  decay;  but, 


308  WILLIAM  LENHART. 

like  the  Altamont  of  Young,  he  was  "still  strong  to 
reason,  still  mighty  to  suffer."  He  indulged  in  no 
murmurs  on  account  of  the  severity  of  his  fate.  True 
nobility  submits  with  grace  to  that  which  is  inevitable. 
Caesar  has  claims  on  the  admiration  of  posterity  for  the 
dignity  with  which,  when  he  had  received  the  dagger  of 
Brutus,  he  wrapped  his  cloak  around  his  person,  and 
fell  at  the  feet  of  Pompey's  statue.  Lenhart  was  con- 
scious of  the  impulses  of  his  high  intellect;  and  his 
heart  must  have  swelled  within  him  when  he  contem- 
plated the  victories  he  might  have  achieved,  and  the 
laurels  he  might  have  won.  But,  he  knew  "his 
lot  forbade"  that  he  should  leave  other  than  "short  and 
simple  annals"  for  posterity.  He  died  with  the  calm- 
ness imparted  by  philosophy  and  Christianity.  Re- 
ligion conferred  upon  him  her  consolations  in  that  hour 
when  it  is  only  by  religion  that  consolation  can  be  be- 
stowed: and,  as  he  descended  into  the  darkness  and  si- 
lence of  the  grave,  he  believed  there  was  another  and  a 
better  world,  in  which  the  immortal  mind  will  drink 
at  the  fountain-head  of  knowledge,  unencumbered 
with  the  decaying  tabernacle  of  clay  by  which  its  lofty 
aspirations  are  here  confined  as  with  chains. 


